


Scenes From an Inquisition - A Night on the Town

by Schattenriss



Series: The Contours of Shadows [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bar crawl, Demons, M/M, Mages
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 13:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 31,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11418825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schattenriss/pseuds/Schattenriss
Summary: On a stopover en route to yet another batch of rifts to close and enemies to fight, a pub crawl sounded like just the thing. After one wrong turn at the end of the evening, a sign from the Anchor signals the Inquisitor and company that danger and mystery lurk nearby. When you lead the Inquisition, even a simple night on the town can get complicated.





	1. Intro - It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

**Author's Note:**

> While this is part of _The Contours of Shadows_ series, this can be read as a stand-alone adventure.

[ ](https://imgur.com/HM4XKHP)

“Well this is just the dog’s bollocks,” Sera announced.

Dorian squinted at her in boozy confusion. “What exactly does that mean? How did canine testicles come to mean something is good?”

“Issa Fereldan thing,” I offered. “You know, because dogs.” I should probably mention I’d had at least as much as Dorian, though I felt clearheaded enough.

“See, it’s that sort of incisive observation that makes Kai such a good Inquisitor,” Dorian snickered. He draped an arm across my shoulders. “Mind you, that doesn’t answer my question and Sera’s the only Fereldan here.”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is we’re _lost_.” Sera glared up at The Iron Bull. “You said you’ve been here before.”

“Once,” Bull protested, “And it was dark out.”

“But you _said_ and now we’re _lost._ ”

“As shortcuts go, it does leave a great deal to be desired,” Dorian said.

We were in a city called Val Chevin, situated on the Orlesian coast due south of Nevarra. We had no real business being there, but it was en route to yet another benighted backwater with rifts that needed to be closed so the decision had been made to spend a few nights in town while they finished setting up the forward camps.

Being that we had a bit of time and nothing constructive to do, some of us had decided to take in the local culture by way of a bar crawl. You come up with brilliant ideas like that when you spend a lot of time out in the middle of nowhere fighting demons, Venatori, boredom and all the insects nature can throw at you.

So Dorian and I had joined Bull, Sera, Varric, Blackwall and a slightly reluctant Cassandra for a night on the town. Bull had led us unerringly to the pub district, which led us to put all our faith in him as a guide. 

And now we were lost.


	2. The Best Laid Plans

“I was here with the Chargers just a few years ago,” he’d told us when we were sitting at the big round table in the common room of our inn. “Good times. We went out for a few drinks — the pub district here is terrific — and found ourselves in one of the biggest bar fights I’ve ever witnessed.”

“Found yourselves?” Varric raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Well...a few of my crew may have accidentally contributed to its start,” Bull said with a grin. “But we managed to make it out of the place without so much as a scratch. That impressed one of the local lords’ sons so much we got a contract out of it. A very _lucrative_ contract.”

“Do they serve real alcohol at these wonderful pubs or watered down facsimiles?” Dorian wanted to know.

“As long as there’s one or two with real alcohol to start out with, it won’t matter by the end,” Blackwall deadpanned.

“So let’s invade some pubs,” Sera enthused. “I want to do something _fun_ before we’re arse deep in wilderness again.”

“I could do with a break,” I said. “You can’t expect me to Inquisitor all the time. Dorian?”

“Any chance to see something other than scenic vistas and the insides of tents meets with my approval,” he said. “I haven’t indulged in any sort of debauchery for far too long.”

“No one said anything about debauchery,” Cassandra said.

“No one has _yet_ , Seeker,” Varric corrected.

“Cassandra could probably debauch us all under the table,” Bull said.

“I _never,_ ” she protested.

“Perhaps you should. You might find you have an aptitude for it,” Dorian teased.

“I have always excelled at anything I put my mind to, but _that_ is not something I care to excel at,” she said with a smile tugging at her lips. “I believe I will accompany you on this outing and show you one can have a good time without debauching.”

We followed Iron Bull to the pub district (which was not the same as the stretch of waterfront bars that mainly serve the harbor).  Though we started at one of the higher-class establishments, I stuck to beer. Not only do I prefer it, but I learned long ago that mixing your drinks is a good way to end up sick or dreadfully embarrassed the next day.

That first pub seemed to fancy itself an idealized version of what a Free Marches pub looked like, much to the amusement of Varric, Blackwall and myself. It looked like no Marches pub any of us had been in, but did rather resemble some second hand junk shops I’d seen, with random items they’d presumably acquired from the Marches displayed on the walls and one brightly-coloured section devoted to banners, fake weaponry and promotional items from the annual Grand Tourney. Still, the drinks were good quality and the place was clean. 

We played a few games of darts while we drank. I’d expected our archers to win those handily, but Sera always put too much force behind her throws and Varric was only a bit above average, explaining that the dynamic was completely different. The real contest turned out to be between Cassandra and Dorian (who swore he wasn’t using magic to enhance his ability), with each of them winning two games before she narrowly beat him in the tie-breaker. I asked him later if he threw the game to keep her happy, but he just smiled and wouldn’t tell me.

The second pub had an Orlesian name and when we got inside we saw it was almost aggressively Orlesian in nature as well. The décor looked like the owners had tried to stuff all of Val Royeaux into the pub’s confines. There was a sign at the bar that read _10% de réduction si vous nous parlez à Orlesian_.

Sera wrinkled her nose. “What’s _that_ mean?”

“If I’m reading it right, they’ll knock ten percent off if you speak to them in Orlesian,” I said.

“So can any of you posh lot do that?” she asked.

“I can order food and swear comprehensively,” Dorian offered.

“I can also order food and ask if your cat is for sale,” I said.

“I beg your pardon?” Varric said with a grin.

I shrugged. “It’s all I remember from taking lessons when I was a boy.”

“You know asking the wrong people that could get you punched,” Sera chortled.

“Or worse,” Varric added.  “They might say yes then expect you to uphold your end of the bargain.”

“Why do you think I never try speaking Orlesian to anyone?”

“How often do you run across people selling cats in pubs?” Cassandra asked. “Is that common in Kirkwall?”

Everyone made an attempt not to laugh except Sera, who said between bouts of snickering, “There’s other meanings for _cats_ than _cats_ , ‘specially if you’re a bloke asking inna pub.”

Cass scowled in confusion, “Other m-oh. _Oh._ ” She flushed an exquisite shade of red as it dawned on her. This time no one tried to keep from laughing.

“S-sorry, Seeker, but you walked into that one,” Varric chuckled. “I don’t suppose _you_ can speak Orlesian, what with that fancy princess education you probably got?”

“I can get by if I speak slowly, but I’ve been told my accent is atrocious,” Cassandra said. “I would prefer not to take the chance.”

“Well, the dwarf is a writer, not a linguist,” Varric said. “Bull?”

“I’m your man for Qunlat, but Orlesian? Nah,” Bull said.

We all looked at Blackwall, expecting another denial. To my surprise, he grumbled, “Andraste’s tits, fine. What does everybody want?”

We told him and watched as he ordered in accented but nearly flawless Orlesian. As we sat he explained, “I spent a lot of years soldiering in Orlais and a lot of soldiering involves waiting for something to happen. You pick things up, especially when some of your squadmates are the more militant sorts of Chevaliers.”

“Well, I’ll be darned, Hero, who knew you had depths,” Varric chuckled.

“I have no such thing,” Blackwall objected. “I’m shallow as a debutante planning her name day celebration. “

As we prepared to leave the Orlesian pub, Cassandra declared she was too tired and sufficiently inebriated to continue and was heading back to the inn. Unexpectedly, Blackwall decided to accompany her, claiming fatigue brought on by exercising his rusty linguistic skills so strenuously.  We said our goodnights and watched them walk away side by side.

“You don’t think they’re..?” Dorian ventured.

“Those two? Naaaah,” Bull shook his head.

“Pretty sure he’s sweet on Ruffles,” Varric added.

“Him and _her_?” Sera frowned. “That’s too wobbly.”

“I think you’ve hit on the perfect word,” Bull said with a chuckle.

_=#=_

We lost Varric at the third pub. Not that we _lost_ him, but we were a few drinks in when a human woman came up to our table and said, “Varric? Varric _Tethras_?”

“Well, that depends,” he said. “Are you looking for him because he owes you money or because you owe _him_?”

She laughed. “You probably don’t remember me, but I was at your last book signing in Markham? We were discussing getting your books into more markets outside the Free Marches?”

He sat up straighter. “Merina Alban, right?”

“You _do_ remember,” she said with a broad smile. 

“I not only remember, I think we should talk if you’re so inclined.”

“But you’re with your friends. I didn’t want to-”

“It’s no bother,” I said.

“We can keep drinking even without the official biographer,” Bull added.

“In fact, it may be just as well that we don’t have an official biographer along,” Dorian said with an exaggerated leer that sent Sera into snorts of laughter.

“You guys sure? Then you’ve got yourself a new drinking buddy,” Varric said. He gave us a wave as he accompanied her to her table.

When we left that pub, Varric was still deep in conversation with his friend. There was one more pub, then some people led us on a labyrinthine route to an “underground” venue where a musical group was playing Tevinter-style, magically enhanced music. Dorian, Sera and I all enjoyed it immensely, but Bull didn’t, declaring it was all noise and flash and sounded like a headache come to life. Despite his complaints we stayed there another hour.

It was the dead of night when we left the underground club, and we were drunk enough that we walked several minutes before Dorian said, “Not to disparage anyone’s navigational abilities, but do we have any idea where we are?”

“We’re taking a shortcut,” Bull said.

“How is this a shortcut? Don’t you have to know the area first to know shortcuts?” I said.

“Yeah, if this is your idea of ‘short’ you’ve bodged things up right proper,” Sera said. 

“It looks seedy,” Dorian sniffed. “And it smells worse. What benighted corner of Orlais are we in?”

“Its arse crack from the looks of it,” Sera snickered. “There’s probably piles of desperate wankers down here ready to cut your throat if you blink at them wrong.”

“Since we’re the most dangerous things down here, I wouldn’t worry about it,” Bull said, looking from one side of the street to the other. “Is this a street or an alley? Did anyone notice where we turned last?”

“You’re asking _us_?” Dorian said.

“We’re following _you_ ,” Sera said.

“Me? I don’t know where we are,” Bull stopped and turned to stare at us.

“You mean we’re lost?” I said.


	3. Way Downtown

Which brings us back to the beginning of the story and the fact that yes, we were well and truly lost.

“Look, guys, it’s not so bad. All we have to do is find the waterfront,” Bull protested.

“And how do you propose we do that?” Dorian said sweetly. “Did you make note of which direction we came?”

“Can’t you two magic us back somehow?” Bull countered.

“No. We’d have to have set a tracking spell and we didn’t think we’d need one,” I said.

“Because you said you knew where we are,” Sera reminded him.

Bull glared at us. “Alright, _fine._ I fucked up. You can officially stop reminding me. Now let’s pick a direction and head back, okay?”

We backed off the recriminations — for the moment — and spent another several minutes not-quite-arguing about the direction. The only one of us that had been trained in any navigational skills was Iron Bull, but fueled by alcohol as we were, the rest of us were convinced we were just as able to find the correct route. We finally decided to walk towards the area where the streets seemed to slope downhill, on the assumption that downhill would be more likely to end up at the waterfront. The bigger moon was nearly full, so there was enough light without Dorian and I needing to enhance it.

The neighborhood we were walking through was one that had never been genteel and descended into seediness. It looked like it had been seedy from its conception. The buildings were mostly made of cheap, weathered wood though they occasionally ventured into brickwork. Anything that had been maintained looked as though it had been so grudgingly. Most were two or three stories, with four seeming to be their limit. We heard things scuttling just out of sight, but whether they were rodents or people we couldn’t say. As with many older areas, the streets were crooked and meandering, looking like they’d grown organically wherever people needed a path rather than being planned. Most of them were at least of cobblestone, though we could see patches deeper into the run-down area that were still just packed earth. There were untidy heaps of things piled against buildings and down those dirt throughways that could have been alleys or lanes. Whether the heaps were garbage or people was open to question.

After about ten minutes of walking, Sera voiced what we were all feeling. 

“This is creepy. There’s no one around. There should at least be the odd drunk but there’s not.”

“Perhaps this is the night their booster club meets,” Dorian said.

“Their what?”

“Never mind.”

We stopped talking. The silence was broken only by the sounds of our footsteps, something that shouldn’t be true for more than a couple of minutes in the middle of a city. We reached a section of four-story buildings that leaned so precipitously overhead their top stories were nearly touching each other, creating an almost-archway above the narrow street. They cut out most of the ambient light too, and I was considering casting a small light spell when the mark on my left hand flared, flashing a baleful green glow around us as it sent a tingling, not-quite-pain up my arm.

Everyone stopped dead. Dorian said, “Amatus?”

I shook my hand, as if I could shake the mark off it. It was still tingling a bit, which was irritating. “Damn. I’m not sure what that was about unless…I think there’s a rift around here.”

“In Val Whateverthisis? Where?” Sera looked around like she expected it to materialize now that it had been found out.

“Near enough that the Anchor got excited about it.” I glared at my hand, which was still glowing greenly.

“Well let’s find it and kick some demon ass,” Bull enthused.

“We don’t have our usual complement of weapons,” Dorian pointed out. “Not that Kai and I _need_ our staffs to do magic, but Sera doesn’t have her bow and you don’t have your sword.”

“I’ve got knives,” Sera said brightly. “They’re not as good, but I can still feed you your own liver on a platter.”

“That’s the spirit!” Bull said. “As for me, I _am_ a weapon.” He tapped the tip of one of his massive horns.

“You do have a point there,” Dorian deadpanned. 

We all groaned at the pun as he smirked.

“So we’ll look for the rift,” I shrugged. “May as well do this town a favour before they’re overrun with Fade demons.”

Based on the Anchor’s reaction, we assumed the rift had to be nearby. Based on the lack of green, glowing lights and Fade demons, we assumed it was indoors. We started searching for places big enough to possibly house an entire rift. At first it seemed impossible, but as we made a slow circuit of the block where the Anchor had flared, I made an unpleasant but useful discovery.

“Shite. Every time we get over this way I feel like there’s bugs crawling up my arm,” I complained.

“Either you’ve developed a strangely specific allergy or it’s the rift,” Dorian said.

“It’s never done that before.”

“Maybe there’s something wonked about the rift?” Sera said.

“All the more reason to find it and kill whatever’s coming out of it,” Bull said.

“Are you always this bloodthirsty when you drink?” Dorian asked.

“It’s been a dull week. All traveling, no fun,” Bull replied.

We’d been closing in on whatever was making the Anchor act up as we talked. It was an open doorway leading down a steep flight of stairs. We could see a weak light at the bottom, but it wasn’t even enough to illuminate the far wall.

“Down there,” I pointed. The Anchor flared slightly as if in punctuation. We walked down the stairs, trying to do it quietly although I’m not sure how well we succeeded given the amount of alcohol we’d consumed.

The stairs let out on a landing leading to a hallway that turned sharply left. There were a few weak oil lamps mounted along it, but all they really managed to do was drive home how dark the hall was. Dorian cast a soft light and we walked cautiously down the hall.

We passed a few locked doors that looked like they’d been locked forever. As we neared the end of the long hall, “Does anyone smell incense?” Dorian said.

We stopped and stood still. The air did smell of incense. In addition, “I hear music,” Sera said.

“Is there a high-end brothel down here?” Bull wondered.

“You never know,” I said. “It’s certainly not the most unlikely explanation. Shall we see?”

“If there’s any Qunari ladies I call dibs,” Sera announced.

We approached the heavy wooden door at the end of the hall.


	4. Nightclubbing

It was locked, of course. 

Iron Bull knocked and a few moments later a small panel slid back on the door. Brown eyes regarded us suspiciously. “Gaston sent us,” Bull said. “We were at the _souterrain_ , and he said we couldn’t leave Val Chevin without seeing this.”

Amazingly, the panel slid shut and the door opened. A short, slightly pudgy man stood there, puffed with the self-importance of someone who’s been told they’re in charge of the door. The smell of incense and other, less identifiable things washed over us accompanied by the sound of pipes and stringed instruments. He looked us over and said, “Six coppers for you. Five for the humans and three for your servant.”

Sera looked like she was ready to spit nails, but she kept her mouth shut.

“Why should she have to pay?” Bull said.

“She doesn’t — you do. She’s still going to take up space and what she’s allowed to do is up to you. So three coppers or she doesn’t get in.”

“Just pay the man,” Dorian drawled in his best upper-class-twat voice. “I want to see what Gaston was on about before it gets too late.”

“It’s probably overrated anyway,” I added with a bored little sneer. I’ve been around enough upper-class twats that I can put on that persona at will.

“You two have enough to pay for yourselves,” Bull grumbled as he dug out his coin purse.

“Yes, but _you_ brought us here, old man. If it’s everything Gaston said, we’ll reimburse you. Or at least buy a round of drinks.” Dorian smoothed his moustache and mimed stifling a yawn.

“ _Are_ there drinks? There’d better be drinks,” I whined.

“There’s everything you want,” the doorman said, “once you pay the entry fee.”

“I doubt that,” I sniffed.

“Harold here has some very exotic tastes,” Dorian said.

“Don’t matter. Everything means everything,” the doorman said.

Bull dropped a pile of coins into the man’s outstretched hand saying, “This better be worth it.”

“I’ve yet to hear anyone say it wasn’t,” the doorman stepped out of the way.  “Through the curtain, down the hall and turn right. Enjoy.”

As we walked through the curtain he locked the door again.

“Servant,” Sera spat. “I’ll _servant_ him. I’ll put a boot so far up his sodding arse he’ll be spitting laces.”

“Hey, it got you in for just three coppers,” I said.

She made a rude noise as we turned right.

I gave Dorian a narrow-eyed glare. “Was that Harold crack really necessary?”

“Just trying to be helpful, amatus. I thought that was an alias you’d have an easy time remembering.”

We entered the main room and paused to look the place over. The large area directly in front of us held the bar along the right hand side and a motley collection of tables and couches. The floor was bare wood, worn smooth and colourless over many years. The place was fairly well lit, with oil lamps bolted into sturdy timbers mounted on the walls. The walls themselves were wainscoted halfway up and painted dark red above that. The lamps made them look warm and lush, though I was betting that illusion would disappear in the cold light of day.  There was an archway at the back, and through that we could see the main attraction. We approached it without crossing through the arch.

It was a rift, no doubt about it. It pulsed and spun greenly in the centre of the warehouse-sized space, but it wasn’t behaving like any rift we’d ever seen.  It was open, but it wasn’t spitting out Fade demons, and the many people in the place seemed perfectly calm in its presence. In fact, they were more than calm. This is what they’d come there for.

“What the..?” Bull didn’t finish his thought.

“Amatus,” Dorian said slowly, “are we seeing what I think we’re seeing?”

“I don’t know. Are you seeing desire demons?”

“Either that or the average Orlesian citizen just got exponentially better-looking.”

“Wait - those are _demons_?” Sera’s voice rose to a quaver on the last word. “No. Nononono. You’ve gotta be wrong.”

“The last time I saw this many in one place was at a private Satinalia party in Minrathous and you do not want to know what the hosts did to get them to attend,” Dorian said.

“Are we saying these demons organized and took over a rift?” I gave up trying to count them; there were too many and the lighting was dim and uneven.

“ _Some_ body organized them.” Dorian smoothed his moustache.

“So this is a cross-dimensional brothel?” Bull sounded almost amused.

“It appears to be,” I said. “I wonder how they keep the other sorts of demons away.”

“How are you all so bloody _calm_ about this?” Sera demanded. “It’s _demons_.”

“Desire demons are a different sort of beast than the ones we’ve been fighting,” Dorian said. “As their name implies, their first tactic isn’t to attempt to turn you into a scattered rendition of your component parts.”

“So they sex you to death?” She glared around the cavernous room.

“If that’s what you desire,” Dorian gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Honestly, Sera, I never guessed at this side of you.”

“Arse. I’m just asking what they do.”

“I’m guessing anything you desire?” Iron Bull said.

“Pretty much,” I said. “They can provide you with incredibly lifelike and detailed illusions of whatever you desire, whether it’s carnal or… I don’t know, an idyllic life crocheting doilies for retired Chantry sisters. Of course, the trade-off is they feed off you while providing you your desire, so eventually they’ll suck you dry.”

“They don’t just operate with full-blown illusory lives, though,” Dorian continued. “They can be whoever or whatever you like. They specialize in influence and subtlety. They can get you power or money or women — you get the idea —and all you have to do in return is let them feed on you. Or selected friends and family members; they really aren’t picky.”

“Kai, close the rift,” Sera commanded.

I stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“They’re demons _eating_ people. It’s _wrong._ ”

“Did you notice how many people are here? And that they seem to be enjoying said demons? You’d get us bloody killed.”

“Well, I think we’d more successfully assess this situation if we got a drink,” Dorian said.

Bull and I both agreed, so we ignored Sera’s exasperated noise and went back to the bar. Soon we were sitting at a slightly wobbly wooden table drinking drinks that were no doubt watered down but still within palatable range.

Perhaps if we hadn’t already been drinking all night, or been fully armed and armoured, we would have marched in, closed the rift and rid the place of demons without a second thought.  “Should we even bother closing this thing?” I asked.

“How can you even _ask_ that?” Sera said.

“I daresay the patrons here won’t appreciate our efforts even if it is for their own good,” Dorian said.

“I know it’s Orlais, but allowing a pile of desire demons free access to the city might be a bit extreme,” Bull said.

“A pile? What _do_ you call a group of desire demons?” Dorian said. “A wanting? A yearning?”

“A covet?” I offered.

“Whatever you call ‘em, looks like there’re a lot of people here who _do_ want to be sexed to death,” Bull said. “Have you guys been watching this?”

“It’s places like these that convince me the majority of the population should not be allowed to walk around in a state of undress,” Dorian said.

“Truer words were never said. Ugh. How do you suppose they organized this?” I said. “Rift opens up and what? The first desire demon steps out, finds the owner of this place and presents her with a business proposition?”

“Or it found someone who _wanted_ to own a place like this and they made an arrangement. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to find the original owner of this building recently passed away of a wasting disease,” Dorian said.

“How long you figure this has been going on? Is that a griffin?” Bull said.

“They can take whatever form is desired,” Dorian said. “And what some people desire…”

“Be glad it’s only a griffin. For how long, I’m guessing if you looked for a drop in the crime rate, you’d have your answer,” I said.

Sera had been uncharacteristically silent since I’d refused to close the rift. I’d thought she was angry, but she said, “So if one of those things was gonna chat us up, it’d look like a woman to me and a guy to you two, but what would it look like to _him_?” She gestured at The Iron Bull.

He smiled complacently. “A redhead. I’ve always been partial to redheads.” 

“You notice they all stay in the rift room? They don’t cross the threshold,” Dorian said. “I can sense some sort of magic there but there’s something funny about it. Amatus?”

I studied the threshold magically and came up with the same feeling: there was something funny about it, I just wasn’t sure what. “That’s fucking strange. It’s not any barrier spell I recognize. We need more information,” I said.

“Why do you need information? We should be shutting this down, not studying it so you lot can write research papers on it,” Sera complained then burped loudly. “This Orlesian beer is shite.”

“Because we need to know how this is happening. It’s so utterly wrong from a magical sense I’d almost think there are Venatori behind it,” Dorian said. “I also need a refill.”

“I’ll get us one,” I offered. “Maybe someone at the bar can explain a few things.”

“You sure you’ll remember in the morning, Boss?” Bull said.

“By the time we get back it’ll _be_ morning, so yes.” With that triumphant bit of logic, I strode only a little crookedly to the bar.


	5. For Your Pleasure

I ordered our drinks and looked around for someone who might be both informed and informative. I needn’t have worried — in moments a woman approached me. She was roughly my age, with sleek brown hair and a round face that was going to prevent her from ever looking truly dangerous.  She was a few inches shorter than me and a few pounds heavier, but the extra weight wasn’t all fat — underneath she had muscle, and she moved like she’d seen combat of some sort before.  She smiled for a microsecond and said, “Want to join me for a drink? I’ll see to it your friends get theirs brought to them.”

I agreed and followed her to a small table. She gave me another truncated smile as we sat. “So, _mon ami_ , we have not seen you and your friends here before.”

“We’re from out of town. Gaston sent us. Said we had to experience this place before we left.”

“And yet all we see you experiencing is the drinks,” she said, raising her eyebrows.

I smiled. “Yes, well, we experienced many other drinks before we found out about this place. None of us really feel up to the sort of experience it looks like they offer tonight. We were rather hoping we could come back another night?”

She made a staccato burst of noise I realized was her version of laughter. “Now that I believe. Not to worry. We are open most nights. Don’t bother showing up before dark.”

“We? You work here?”

“I make sure nothing gets -how do you say it?- out of hands? No, out of hand. If you don’t mind my saying, you stand out compared to our usual clientele.”

I nodded. “This is quite the place. Are those- what _are_ the people in the big room there? And what is that thing? Did you get a mage to make it?”

“ _Non._ No mages. Owner doesn’t want mages in here. The green doorway just _appeared_ one day. I do not know how they worked it all out, but a month later this place opened. We only advertise by word of mouth, and we take care who is allowed in, but business was booming from the time they first opened the doors.”

“And those people? They’re not normal people; we can see that.”

“They are from the other side of the green doorway. I think it is the Fade they are from.”

I feigned shock. “You mean they’re _demons_?”

She made another staccato chuckle. “ _Non,_ they keep the demons away from the doorway. They are spirits of… I think you would say giving. They give our clients the things they wish for and keep the demons away.”

I frowned. “And what do they get in return? I’ve never heard of there being a great demand for money in the Fade.”

“They get what they cannot get in the Fade. They get to feel and experience the real world. In order to fulfill our clients’ wishes, they access their memories. When they do that they can experience what the client has experienced, and to them that is more valuable than gold.”

“You’re telling me they take memories?”

“Not take, just _borrow._ There is no harm to the client. We have many repeat customers you may ask.”

“So it’s safe?”

“Perfectly,” she said with round-eyed earnestness. “And you get to experience things you have only dreamed of. We have private rooms for more elaborate wishes, and they are very reasonably priced.”

I noticed she steered clear of using the word _desire_ , which made me think she knew more than she was letting on. “Why don’t any of them come into this room? Wouldn’t it make sense for them to talk to people here in the bar before…diving right in?”

“The threshold is warded—that is, it is magically protected—so that they may not pass across it.”

I drank and stifled a burp. “I thought you said it was safe.”

“It is. It is just a precaution against the other things that might come through the doorway. Nothing from the Fade—if that is what is on the other side—can pass the threshold.”

“But if it’s magically protected why don’t you want mages around?”

“Because a mage might undo the barrier, either on purpose or accidentally. And everyone knows they are prone to possession. We do not need one of them having that happen because they attract something dangerous from the other side. It is simpler and safer to keep them out.”

“Oh. Thass good, I guess.” I blinked at her, acting a little more drunk than I actually was. “So how much? For tomorrow, that is.”

“You can ask about prices when you come back,” she said shortly, moving like she was going to stand.

“Just one more thing,” I said. She settled back onto her chair and I continued, “How do you get away with this? This place is bloody huge. Doesn’t the Watch or the Chantry have a problem with it?”

For the first time she smiled broadly. “Don’t you worry about that. You see those two at that table? They’re with the Watch. Now look over there.“ She pointed discreetly into the big room. “You see the woman with that goat-man? She is the first lieutenant to the revered mother here. There will be no objection from either Chantry or Watch, so you may enjoy your experience with confidence.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” I enthused. “Um. When we come back is there a password we should use?”

“Just say _je ai un souhait_ or _nous souhaitons._ It means either ‘I’ or ‘we’ have a wish. Now I must get back to work. Nice meeting you.” Chair legs scraped across the floor as we both stood. I thanked her and went back to our table.

I told them what she’d said, and Dorian had the presence of mind to write down the passwords she’d given me before I forgot them. We quietly agreed we should talk about it all once we were well clear of the place and significantly more sober, finished our drinks and left.

We emerged to find false dawn already beginning to light the sky. 

“How’re we gonna find this place again?” Sera asked.

“I’ll remember,” Bull said.

“Oh, like you remembered everything earlier tonight?” she scoffed.

“Ah, but I wasn’t _trying_ to remember then,” he grinned and tapped his temple. “Ben Hassrath, remember?”

“We could put a small beacon spell somewhere nearby,” I offered.

“Better not, Boss. They already said they don’t want mages around. They might check for shit like that.”

“Then we must hope your memory is eidetic as you claim,” Dorian said. “Or I suppose we could stake out the Chantry and wait for the sister with the goat fetish to feel the urge again.”

Sera snickered.

We started walking, Bull taking the lead. 

“You remember how to get back now?” I said.

“I asked while you were at the bar,” he admitted.

“Hey Bull,” Sera said.

“Hey, Sera. What do you want?”

“Who’s Gaston anyways?”

He chuckled. “Everywhere I’ve ever been in Orlais there’s at least one guy named Gaston. It’s my go-to name to get me into places here and so far it’s never failed me.”

We didn’t talk about anything important the rest of the way back to our inn. We agreed to meet and tell the others what we’d discovered the next day, went to our rooms and fell into bed. 


	6. The Morning After

I had been having a perfectly good if somewhat odd dream — Dorian and I were living somewhere warm and seemed to be in the midst of opening a nug-breeding business with Leliana — when it took a nasty turn. I heard a horrible banging noise and turned to see some ghastly-looking child in the corner of the room repeatedly smashing two rocks together as it grinned at me with rot-blackened teeth. There was blood dripping down its chin.

I woke with a start and had a small moment of panic when the noise continued until it dawned on me that someone was banging on our door. Altruistic soul that I am, I found Dorian’s shoulder under the blankets and shook it until he made a complainy noise.

“Dorian. Someone’s at the door.”

He said, “Mnh.”

The banging paused and started again.

I pulled at the covers, trying to get further underneath them. “They won’t bloody stop.”

“Kill them for us, would you?” Dorian mumbled.

Because killing them would have involved getting out of bed, I shouted, “Andraste’s tits, go away!” My voice sounded raspy and unused and my nose was stuffed.

The banging stopped. 

Dorian mumbled, “Thank you,” and we went back to sleep.


	7. Scheming

Perhaps an hour later the banging started again, but this time we were on the verge of being awake. Dorian groaned and sat up, which pulled half the covers off me and let a huff of cold air under the rest. I swore and opened my eyes as he said loudly, “Who is it? We’re not decent.”

“Sorry, guys, but they’re gonna stop serving breakfast soon,” came Bull’s voice.

“Fuck breakfast,” I muttered, moving closer to Dorian and trying to pull the covers back up.

“You know we probably should get up,” he sighed.

“Don’t want to.”

“There’ll be coffee.” He rubbed my back with his right hand and yawned.

“There’d better be. Gah.”  I sat up and rubbed my eyes.  I didn’t feel hung over — I rarely do — but I was congested and tired. “Was I dreaming or did we actually come across a brothel full of desire demons last night?”

“We actually did. Even in Tevinter I’ve never seen the like.”  He stood, stretched with feline grace and padded over to open the curtain on the rectangular window next to the bed. Glary grey light flooded the room, making my eyes water.

“Did you have to do that?”

“Be glad I didn’t say something chirpy and optimistic about starting the morning with a song in your heart.”

“If you did I would have to exact retribution for deliberate chirping and you don’t want to go down that path.”

Fifteen minutes later we made it down to the common room. Dorian looked impeccable, but I never felt quite functional until I’d had coffee. Fortunately my friends had anticipated that and there was a steaming mug waiting for me. 

Bull and Varric were seated at the table when we arrived, playing a game of cards. “We wanted to hold the table, and common rooms of inns are where I get some of my best material,” Varric said with a grin. “Once you’ve eaten, we’ll get the others back.”

So we were able to have breakfast — sausages, eggs, stewed tomatoes and toasted bread with jam — in relative peace. Once we were done and had more coffee (as always, Dorian sullied his with sugar), they fetched the others.

The common room was virtually empty at this time of day, which worked to our advantage. “Is everyone caught up on what we found last night?” I asked. Everyone was. “Then before we talk, Dorian and I are going to cast a few subtle spells to keep people from listening in.”

“Is that wise?” Cassandra asked.

“As Kai said, they’re subtle,” Dorian answered. “You likely haven’t noticed us casting them.”

“You did? When?” Sera looked around like she was going to see something now that she’d been told.

“You can’t always see spells being cast,” I said. “Just the big, flashy stuff usually.”

“I had a mate who was a mage and you could always see when he was casting shite,” she objected.

“The difference between a trained and untrained mage,” Dorian explained.  

“Subtle, close-up work is always harder to master than big, flashy stuff. Some mages either don’t have the skill or just never quite figure out how to cast without setting off a few fireworks,” I added.

“So you’re saying this is a private conversation now?” Bull said.

Dorian nodded. “We are, as they say back home, _in camera_.”

“’Cause they couldn’t just say something normal when there’s a chance to make it sound posh,” Sera said.

“There is some truth to that,” Dorian said, unruffled.

“Why is there a need for extra privacy?” Cassandra asked.

“Because we found something both extraordinary and potentially very dangerous last night,” I said.

The four of us who had been there took turns describing what we’d seen (though Sera’s contribution was primarily to say that I should have closed the rift then and there and to the Void with what anyone thought).

“Is this something that’s happened before? Desire demons working together?” Varric asked.

“Not to this degree,” Dorian said. “There have been instances of more of them operating in a small area, but in a manner more akin to cats.”

Sera squinted at him. “Cats?”

I have to admit I was equally curious.

“Cats,” he reiterated. “They’re solitary hunters, but if they’re well-fed enough they will be sociable with each other. Not in a manner that they start hunting in packs; just that they will be friendly and socialize among themselves, when normally they don’t.”

“We don’t know how this happened or who they might be working with, but as Dorian said, they’re like well-fed cats,” I said. 

“That is all this land needs now, is organized Fade demons,” Cassandra said grimly. “You are sure the woman was telling the truth about the Watch and Chantry being compromised?”

“Well, I can’t be one hundred percent sure, no,” I said. “But we should probably act as though she was.”

“I’ve got a question,” Blackwall said. “Should we be sticking our noses into this at all?”

“Are you _daft_?” Sera demanded. “What part of _demons_ don’t you understand?”

“Sera is correct,” Cassandra said. “We cannot allow this to continue.”

“Sounds like they’re just giving these folk what they want,” Blackwall persisted. “A distraction, a different life. Could be for many of the ones using their services, that’s a blessing.”

“Disregarding the fact that they’re consuming you as they provide that service,” Cassandra said, her lips pursed.

Blackwall shrugged. “As opposed to them consuming their lives with drink or drugs? Maybe this way’s safer.”

“I wasn’t aware Grey Wardens took such an egalitarian stance on demons,” Dorian said.

“We fight blights and darkspawn. We find that’s sufficient,” Blackwall replied.

“Putting aside moral relativism for the moment, that’s an active rift they’ve got in that place,” I said. “That _is_ a problem. We don’t know that it would remain stable even if the demons are relatively benign and the people want them here, which I’m not convinced of. It could expand, or something could come along that’s more powerful than the demons and take control of the rift.”

“Or something small and nasty could slip through in the dead of day when no one’s looking,” Dorian added. “Kai’s right — we can’t leave it and hope for the best.”

“And Sparkler of all people cuts to the root of the problem,” Varric feigned surprise. 

I looked at Bull. “You’re awfully quiet. Opinions?”

“Just wondering, Boss. If you close the rift, the demons are gonna be stuck on this side, aren’t they?”

“Unless we can convince them to go back, yes,” I said.

“Oh, well we’ll just have to ask them nicely then,” Sera scoffed.

“Close it first,” Cass said.

“We should look into it a bit more deeply first. This is unusual, so we’d be best off knowing what we’re up against,” Dorian said.

“I agree with Dorian,” I said.

Sera rolled her eyes. “Like that’s a surprise.”

“As a mage and the only one of us that can close that rift,” I expanded, narrowing my eyes back at her.

“I’m with them,” Bull said. “An extra night of reconnaissance isn’t going to damage anything.”

“You hope,” Sera said darkly.

“I’ve had some experience with what can happen when unique, magical things get treated too casually. I say close it sooner than later,” Varric said.

“Maker only knows how long it’s been here. Information is best; keeps you from making bad decisions,” Blackwall said.

Cassandra looked calculatingly around the table and huffed out a sigh. “I can see those of us who would prefer the rift closed now are going to be overruled. Can we at least agree to be wary?”

“Of course,” I said.

“So does this mean we intend to all descend on the place at once?” Dorian said.

“Yeah, because that’s not suspicious at all,” Bull said, smiling faintly.

“I think we can manage a bit more subtlety than that,” I said.

After some discussion, we decided the four of us who had gone to the nameless club the night before would return together. Varric, Blackwall and Cass would show up independently.

“Just out of curiosity, where is this place and do any of you remember how to get there?” Varric asked.

“The Iron Bull knows,” Sera said, shooting him a pointed glare, “ _doesn’t_ he?”

“The Iron Bull not only knows, but can draw you a map,” he said with a complacent smile.

“Probably for the best. There isn’t a concealment spell in existence that would make the entire group of us unnoticeable,” Dorian said.

We discussed possible scenarios once we got there and Bull did draw us a few maps. Dorian and I then gave the others a lecture on the dangers of letting your guard down around a desire demon.

“Just remember — everyone assumes sex when they hear ‘desire demon’, and certainly that’s what many people get, but that’s not the only thing people desire, and they’ll use that,” Dorian said. “Lust, wealth and power are their stock in trade because they’re the most common desires, but they’re smart. If you’re not susceptible via any of those avenues, they’ll try to ferret out what you _do_ yearn for.”

“Or they’ll use sex to get you hooked, and then reel you in once they determine what your deeper desires are,” I added.

“Can they read minds?” Sera wanted to know.

“No, but they’re quite adept at reading people,” Dorian said. “They can get you prattling on about yourself until you start letting slip the kind of details they can use to worm their way into your life.”

“So what you’re telling us is they’re running the ultimate long con,” Varric said.

“Essentially, yes,” Dorian said with a half-smile. “If you keep that picture in mind, you’ll likely do very well against them.”

“The good news is they’re less likely to want to wear your guts for garters unless they feel cornered,” I said. “Even then they prefer to bargain their way out, and they’re very good at it.” 

“If you’re not careful you’ll walk away thinking you’ve won only to find they got everything they wanted,” Dorian added.

“But don’t forget they can be formidable. Considering how many of them we saw in just a short time in a dark room after too many drinks, we might want to try very hard not to piss them off.”

“I thought they were being held back by a magical barrier,” Cassandra said.

“Do you want to put all your faith in that when we don’t know how talented the mage who made it was?” Dorian said. “For all we know they’ve merely been pretending the barrier is a hindrance because it’s a convenient fiction that makes the locals more complacent and trusting.”

“Makes sense,” Blackwall rumbled. “Give ‘em a false sense of security and everyone gets more of what they want.”

“Not to mention the people running the operation are being very careful not to mention words like ‘desire’ or ‘demon’ to the clientele.  I was told they’re spirits of giving, remember? ” I said.

“If we can’t piss the demons off and we can’t close the bloody rift ‘cause we’ll piss off the locals, what arsing good is any of this?” Sera complained. 

“We didn’t say we were going to do nothing, we just said we need to proceed with caution,” I said.

“So just tell their mayor and let the city deal with it if all anyone’s gonna want to do is kill us.”  

“The Boss is the only one who can close the rift,” Bull said. “We _are_ still planning on doing that, right?”

“Right,” I agreed. “It’s just…complicated.”

“What about weapons?” Blackwall said.

I admit I looked at him blankly. “What about them?”

“Do they let you into this place armed?”

“I didn’t notice.”

“I did,” Bull said. “No one was armed.  Depending on how things go, that could be a problem.”

Varric looked from Dorian to me. “I don’t suppose you can spell them so no one sees them?”

I shook my head. “A _don’t notice me_ spell is the best we can reasonably do and I don’t know that that would be effective on weapons.”

“Not that many for the amount of time we’re likely to need,” Dorian said.

“What about stashing them somewhere nearby ahead of time?” Blackwall asked. “Could you fix it so only we could find or access them?”

I nodded slowly.  “We could do that. Static illusion spell over wherever they’re stashed.”

“Then ward them so only our party can touch them,” Dorian finished. “But would everyone be fine with their weapons being _stashed_ somewhere?”

“I’ll go without; I can function just fine without my staff,” I said.

“You just better make bloody sure no one else can touch them,” Sera said. “I don’t have a good backup bow.”

“I do not like it, but I will allow my sword to be _stashed_ ,” Cassandra said.

“What she said,” Blackwall said.

“I’m not crazy about it either, but it seems like the best route,” Bull said.

We all looked at Varric, who said, “What?”

“Would you be willing to part with Bianca temporarily?” Cassandra asked. 

He sighed. “Don’t worry, Seeker. I’ll take one for the team. You’re sure no one but us will be able to breach those wards?”

“We’re sure,” I said. “The kind of wards we’ll lay down would take even a powerful mage some time to overcome.”

“I hope you’re right, Inquisitor. Bianca doesn’t take kindly to strangers handling her.”

I looked at The Iron Bull. “So you said you can navigate us back there?”

“No problem, Boss. Just need to put the package together,” he said confidently.

Bull was as good as his word. He, Dorian and I collected the weapons and he led us unerringly back to the rift club. Dorian and I cast _don’t notice me_ spells on all of us, then we scouted around until we found a spot that looked about perfect.  A building kitty-corner to the back of the club had a coffin-sized metal container in front of it that had probably started its life as a watering trough. Someone had planted something in it since then, but the plants had long since died. It still was half full of dirt, over top of which people had been tossing whatever garbage they had at hand. It only took us a matter of minutes to dig down and bury our carefully wrapped package in the dirt. Dorian and I both warded the package, then I crafted an illusion of it being old building materials that could only be broken by our team. We covered the package back up and Dorian set another illusion of the contents being undisturbed. When we were all satisfied, we returned to our inn.


	8. Nightclubbing (Reprise)

We spent the evening doing practical, preparatory things like eating, and we handed a copy of the passwords to the three that were entering the club separately. Once it was late enough in the evening, we had a drink each in the common room ( _for verisimilitude_ , as Dorian said) then returned to the big, non-descript building the rift club was housed in.

The dilapidated hallway hadn’t improved now that we were sober.  Walls that may have once been painted green had faded to a sickly greenish-grey. Much of the ceiling was blackened with the soot of years of lamps burning. The doors to the locked rooms were all faded wood, and many of them had been defaced by someone with a knife, little artistic talent and a lot of time to spare. Their favourite subjects were large breasts attached to stick-figure women and male genitalia that apparently did not require attachment to stick figure men.

We reached the door at the end and knocked. The panel slid open same brown eyes as the night before glared at us. 

“Oh, it’s you lot,” his muffled voice said. The panel closed and the door opened.

“You don’t want the password?” Bull asked.

“Oddly enough, I remember you,” the little man said, stepping aside so we could enter. At least he was no longer glaring.

“You mean I learned all that Orlesian for nothing?” I complained.

“I told you it wasn’t worth bothering with. That’s what other people are for,” Dorian said smugly. 

“Does this mean we get free admittance?” Bull asked.

The doorman pursed his lips. “No. It means your admission is half price.  Payable now.”

Bull looked at us. “Guys?”

“We’ll buy drinks. Those are more expensive anyway,” Dorian said, examining his fingernails.

“How much does the other room cost?” I asked the doorman.

“Ask at the bar,” he said.

Sera was bouncing from foot to foot as Bull paid, but kept quiet until we’d made it into the bar/lounge area  (if I can give that posh a designation to the space).  Then she glowered at us all and said, “This is bollocks.”

“Let’s just order our drinks and find out what the rift room’s going to set us back,” I said.

“You’d best remember not to call it that, amatus,” Dorian said. 

“You should just close it and then we’ll run,” Sera reiterated.

“Down a narrow hallway full of locked doors and a sharp turn before the exit? Sounds positively bracing,” Dorian said.

She sighed gustily and plopped into a seat at the table we’d just claimed. I went up to the bar.

Once I ordered our drinks I said, “So the doorman said I should ask you about the room with the green thing. He said you can get anything you want there. How much does anything cost?”

The bartender grinned. “Depends on what sort of anything you want. Physical stuff’s the cheapest, but our spirits can provide you with much more than that. “

I pretended confusion. “I don’t follow you. You mean they pretend to like you too?”

That got me a laugh. “Nah. Look, you just wanna stick your cock in something or have one stuck in you, it’ll run you up to ten crowns, depending on what tilts your windmill. Anything  what isn’t physical — and I mean anything — you tell the spirit what you want and the price’ll be determined depending on how much work it is for the spirit and how much of its time you’re gonna eat up. “

“How does that work? It sounds like nonsense to me,” I said, frowning.

“They got powers. I don’t think they can make shit happen for real, but they can make you feel like you’re living whatever you wanna experience. You wanna be rich? You wanna marry Anora of Ferelden? You wanna _be_ Anora of Ferelden? They can make it so you can live that.”

“Then it’s all just fantasy,” I said.

“Mon chere, everything _here_ is just fantasy. That’s why people come here. They can’t afford a holiday to far-off lands like the rich, but come here and for an hour you can be somewhere else, some _one_ else, whatever you wish. “

“If a simple fuck is ten crowns, I don’t think you’re exactly providing a service to the poor.”

She laughed again. “The ten crown version would be anything but simple. Think about this — for the price of a few drinks, you could see a lost friend or relative and have a chat for an hour, or go sailing on the Waking Sea, or hunt a kill a wyvern. Whatever your heart desires.”

“How can they do that? Is it mind magic?” 

“No, it’s spirit magic. They’re spirits; that’s how they can be whatever you like.”

“I don’t know. It sounds too good to be true. There’s got to be a catch,” I objected.

She smiled. “We have the only catch we need. Once you try it, you’ll want to keep coming back.”

“Well…I’ll think about it,” I said and returned to our table where my beer had already been delivered.

I told the others what I’d been told. “So you see? According to them we have nothing to worry about.”

“Guys, I just thought of something,” Bull said. We all looked at him as he continued, “Boss, you and Dorian might wanna stay on this side of that barrier.”

Dorian beat me to saying, “Why? Of anyone here, we’re the most qualified to deal with them.”

“We’ve both been dealing with them for decades,” I agreed. “We know how to handle them.”

“And that would be because..?” he prodded us.

“Because we’re mages, of course.  We’ve been to the Fade countless times,” Dorian said a bit impatiently.

“And you know how to handle desire demons because..?” Bull continued.

“Because we’ve had to,” I said. “The more powerful the mage, the more they’re attracted…to…us.” I finally began to understand where he was going with it.

“So whadda you think is going to happen when you cross that barrier? Do the words ‘moth’ and ‘flame’ ring a bell?”

“ _Venhedis_ ,” Dorian swore. “They’ve got more self-control than that, but they’ll certainly be aware of us.”

“They’ll know exactly what we are,” I said glumly.

“And since the management doesn’t want your kind in here, how fast do you figure you’ll get kicked out?”

“Guess that means that barrier-thingy is working,” Sera said. “Otherwise they’d probably already be all up in your business, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Damn. This throws a wrench into things. I should’ve thought of that.”

“We both should have,” Dorian amended.

“Maybe they wouldn’t rat on you,” Sera said. “Don’t they, like, _like_ you? They’re _supposed_ to be all chatting you up, yeah?”

“Yes. Chatting us up, not salivating,” Dorian said with a smile. 

“Dunno. Lot of people are into some pretty mad shite. Maybe salivating’s  just horses for courses with this lot.”

Bull laughed as I said, “Maybe we should take the chance. Sera’s right, technically. This isn’t a normal situation. I need to see that rift and Dorian and I are best able to assess what our wish-fulfillment spirits or whatever they’re bloody calling them are up to.”

“What if one of them starts screaming ‘mage’?” Bull asked.

“Let’s hope they’re sufficiently tempted by us that they don’t,” Dorian said.

Bull nodded. “Fair enough. Just wanted to get us thinking about potential problems _before_ they happen.”

I saw Blackwall and Varric amble into the room. They didn’t acknowledge us. Varric got them a table that happened to be next to ours while Blackwall ordered their drinks.

“So do we wait for Cass to show too, or do we get this ball rolling?” I said.

“Will the _spirits_ know what she is?” Bull asked.

Dorian stroked the patch of hair below his lower lip. “I think not. They may sense something different or even unpalatable about her, but her training didn’t take her to the Fade.”

“Then why wait? We can’t walk in there all in a group anyway.”

“What’re we even supposed to be looking for?” Sera said, her expression stormy.

“We want to know what they’re doing and how they’re going about it. What the set-up in this place? Does the barrier actually stop them? Who’s running this operation? How long has it been going on?” I said.

“Are the ‘spirits’ on an equal footing with whoever’s running this or are they being commanded somehow? Is this the whole of what they’re doing or is there more going on than meets the eye?” Dorian added.

“Andraste’s flabby arse, we’re supposed to ask them all that?”

“Well, not all at once, obviously,” I said. “Just learn what you can. You _did_ ask.”

“Just have a care you don’t start sharing information back with them. They’ll use it to worm their way into your mind,” Dorian said.

“You’d best be doubly careful, Sera,” I said. “You’ve made no secret of your wanting things to just go back the way they were, and they can easily offer you that illusion.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, but it’d be fake. What bloody good is that?”

“None for you, but they can use it as a way to worm their way into you.”

“Maybe I should just wait for you lot out here,” she said, eyes wide and dismayed.

“That’s fine. We could use someone keeping an eye from the outside,” I said.

“Pretend you’re chatting up Cassandra when she gets in,” Dorian said. “It’ll give you an excuse to talk to her.”

She started to glare at him then her face squinched in thought. She grinned. “Y’know, once in a while you have a good idea.”

Dorian raised his eyebrows in affected shock. “ _Once in a while_? I’ll have you know I’m positively brimming with good ideas. You just normally never listen.”

“Arse,” she said, but she was smiling. 

“So how’re we doing this, Boss?” Bull pulled us back to the task at hand.

“I think it’s alright if we all go in at once. They know we came in together,” I said. “Then we see what we can learn. I’d suggest we set a time limit of no more than an hour.”

We all agreed, and Sera stuck to her decision to stay on the outside of the rift room and keep the others informed.

“Well, this oughta be fun,” Bull said as we approached the barrier, “but I’d rather just hit something.”


	9. The Seeming and the Real

There was a man at a small table just before the barrier who stopped us to demand yet more coin for the privilege of entering the rift room and warned us that charges would apply to any service their “spirits” provided. We paid and stepped through the barrier.

I noticed the smell first. It was the sweet, pungent smell of ozone, cutting through the more typical smells of alcohol, incense, sweat, sex and people with a dubious grasp of hygiene.  Twining through the crowd along with the ozone was the subtly acrid smell of the Fade, something only Dorian and I were likely to recognize. 

The mark on my left hand was buzzing and itching and starting to noticeably glow, exacerbated by the proximity of the active rift. I’d expected that might pose a problem and took a moment to pull on the black leather gloves I’d stuck in a pocket.

“This’ll work better if we split up,” Bull murmured, his good eye taking in everything as he scanned the big room.

I nodded and he said more loudly, “Well, if you guys don’t mind, I think I see a redhead with my name on her.”

We waved him on with good-natured jibes about not getting into too much trouble. There was a smaller bar to our left, so we wandered over there and got a drink each then moved off a bit away from everyone, studying the room. Other people were doing the same thing, so we didn’t worry about standing out, at least with the non-demonic contingent. 

Smell aside, the atmosphere on this side of the barrier felt heavy, pregnant with the energy of the rift and the alien vibration of so many desire demons. The place was cavernous; I suspected many walls had been hastily knocked down to make it so, leaving only necessary support beams in place.  Around the perimeter they’d constructed a series of small rooms with cheap, flimsy doors that looked to be doing brisk business as demons and their clients entered and left. Other areas had couches or circles of chairs. We saw more than a few pairs on the couches, touching slightly but utterly still as the demon generated whatever illusion its client desired, feeding off them as it did. Then there were the darker corners where what was going on couldn’t really be called anything other than rutting, particularly since there were pairs or collections where the demons were not in humanoid form.

There was a group of musicians playing on a low dais near the bar, adding to the atmosphere and covering up some of the sounds coming out of those darker corners and alcoves. As a bonus, the music wasn’t bad.

“I repeat — the majority of people should not walk around unclothed,” Dorian said quietly.

I chuckled. “Yes. How long do you figure we have until the demons notice us?”

“Assume very little and then subtract. Be glad it smells like a brothel struck by lightning in here; it’s likely masking us a bit, as is the rift itself.”

“Wish I knew what to do about the bloody thing.”

“Are you getting anything off it?” I could see his academic side taking over in the brightness of his eyes as he asked me. I’ve always loved that about him: even in the direst of situations, there’s still that sharply curious side of him that wants to _study_ the new and unfamiliar.

I concentrated on the rift for a few minutes, scratching absently at my left forearm as it felt like tingling lines of energy were racing out of the mark and returning. “It’s been tampered with somehow. It feels…stuck.”

Dorian frowned. “Are you going to be able to unstick it?”

“I think so. I hope so. I think they’re starting to notice.”

Dorian nodded. ‘I see it too. Shall we mingle?”

“Let’s. I’ll meet you here at the bar?”

“No more than an hour. I suggest remaining fully clothed.”

“I was planning on that. Weren’t you?”

He snorted delicately. “As if I would favour this motley crowd with even a moment’s glimpse of what _they_ have to entreat demons to acquire.”

“Good. As long as I get to take my time ogling you later.”

He smirked. “That can be arranged. Behave yourself and I may even allow you to manhandle the goods.”

“With promises like that a desire demon isn’t going to find anything in me to latch onto.”

“Except the desire for this to be over with so you can take me up on my rash promises?” 

“There is that. Shall I return the favour and whisper to you the things we’ll be doing later?”

“I think the combination of prior experience and a vivid imagination will suffice for the moment.”

“Have it your way,” I said with a shrug. “An hour, then?”

“Good luck mingling.” He winked and we parted ways.

I wove my way through the crowd, heading for a better look at the rift. I noted that the individuals I could identify as desire demons were noticing me, but none approached me. Yet. I was under no illusions (so to speak) that would continue.

They’d protected people from the rift by the simple expedient of…roping it off.  They’d stuck a series of poles mounted on flat round bases around it and strung lengths of rope between them. To add to this stellar security, someone had hung a sign off one section of rope reading _Do Not Cross_. I stood just outside the fearsome barrier and studied the rift.

It was roiling like a normal rift, but more slowly. When I tried sensing it magically (which made my left hand itch like crazy and ache a little bit) it felt _constrained_ , as though someone had enclosed it with a caging or binding spell of some sort. It wasn’t time magic they were using, just a binding that was a work of art. I’d never heard of anyone capturing a rift, and wondered if was one of the demons or a local mage that had come up with it. Whoever it was, they were talented.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

I turned to see one of the desire demons standing next to me.  “It’s…impressive,” I said. “What do you call it?”

It regarded me with amusement. “Oh, come now. You know exactly what it is. You and your friend are powerful enough that we sensed you on the other side of the barrier.”

I shrugged in a _you caught me_ manner. “I should have known. Why aren’t you getting management in here to send us away?”

It chuckled. “Perhaps we’re curious. It does get dreary after a while, satisfying simple, unimaginative people’s simple, unimaginative fantasies.”

I noted with interest that at the moment, the creature was completely androgynous. It had elements of both male and female about it and could have been either. Even its voice danced along that line where it could be masculine or feminine. “You think we’re likely to be more imaginative?”

Now it grinned, showing teeth that were unsettlingly sharp. “We think you’ll be _delicious_.”

I smiled back and _tsk_ ed. “Now, is that any way to gain the confidence of your possible ticket out of here?”

“It felt like what you wanted to see.” 

“You’re a perceptive one, aren’t you?” It dipped its head in acknowledgement. “How about we continue this conversation over a drink?”

It blinked. Its eyes were pale blue with pupils like a cat’s. “Knowing what I am, you want to drink with me?”

“As you say, I’m powerful and I know what you are. I’ll take my chances with you. At least your kind are better conversationalists than most of your kin.” We walked over to the bar. I got a beer, it got something pink and fizzy.

It made a moue as we sat. “Not _our_ kin. Just because we reside in the same realm doesn’t mean we have anything else in common.”

“You all seem to want to enter this realm, and your preferred method is to possess those of us who are vulnerable to you. Then you wonder why we call you demons.”

“Do you have any idea how _dull_ our realm is? When everything is infinitely changeable, nothing really changes.”

“You’ll have to explain that one,” I said, taking a swallow of my drink. Unlike the ones at the front, this one wasn’t watered down. _The better to get your patrons to loosen up and drop their guard._

“Everything there is malleable. It is diffuse. Existence is diffuse there as well.” Its strange blue eyes met mine; they seemed to glow a bit. “There’s none of the sharpness of feeling, the intensity of focus, the speed and heat of _living_ that there is in your world of time and rigid states of being. If you lived in our realm for a time, you would not question or fault our craving for the concentrated _experience_ of your side.”

“As I said, it’s how you go about acquiring that experience we take issue with,” I said drily.

“Does your friend feel the same?”

“About what?” I resisted the urge to look around for Dorian.

“Us. Whatever you’re doing here. What _are_ you doing here?”

“As far as you, I’d say most people here are in agreement. We don’t take kindly to being possessed or devoured, oddly enough. And what we’re doing here is satisfying our curiosity. I’ve never seen a captive rift before. Who did it?”

“Some mages. The people here are taking kindly enough to us.” It finished its drink and signaled for another. I doubted the alcohol actually affected it, but you never know.

“As you said, they’re unimaginative. Dull. They don’t understand what you are so they don’t have the sense to be wary of you. They’ve been told you’re benign, and you are being subtle in your feeding.”

“You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” It narrowed its eyes at me.

“I have my moments.” I raised my bottle in a mock salute.

It accepted its new drink from the serving girl and said nothing for a time; just sipped the drink and watched me.

I was beginning to grow weary of whatever its little game was, but it knew something and it was willing to just talk, so I spent the time looking around the room. I was keeping an eye out for Dorian, of course, but also for my other companions, and I couldn’t help glancing at the rift. My left hand was still tingling due to its proximity.

When I looked back at the desire demon I almost blinked in surprise. It had taken on a decidedly masculine appearance in the few minutes I’d looked away. Instead I just raised a quizzical eyebrow.

“Just trying to make you more at ease,” it said. “Perhaps even titillate you a bit.” 

“And you decided on that look? How’d you conclude you’d titillate with it?”

“I should just tell you it’s a trade secret, but I like you.” It smiled easily, lounging back in its chair as it completed its transition into what I had to admit was a handsome man. It now had the smoothly muscular build of a dancer or swimmer, short, dark hair and a light dusting on stubble on its face. The eyes had remained the same, though I was sure it could alter them if it wished. “I watched you, that’s all. I watched how you watch things.”

I frowned at him. “I wasn’t looking for hook-ups.”

He chuckled attractively. “You don’t have to be. It’s something none of you think about. When you were scanning the room, your eyes paused a fraction of a second longer on the males. Assessing.”

“I could be assessing which ones would be the greatest threat, you know,” I objected.

“Perhaps you do that too, but that’s not what your eyes were assessing. Don’t feel bad. We’re uncannily good at interpreting signs of desire. It’s in our nature, after all.”

“You may be attractive, but that doesn’t mean I want you.”

“Not everything’s about sex, you know,” he smirked.

“What mages caged the rift?” I asked.

That seemed to annoy him. “How should I know? Mages. I didn’t ask their names.”

“All right, then how many were there?”

“Three, I think. I haven’t seen them since they bound it, but I’ve been busy.”

I cocked my head to one side. “This can’t be what you wanted. Trapped in a room no matter how large, having to cater to the whims of idiots and drunks.”

“What makes you think I’m trapped?” He took a slow sip of his drink, watching me with hooded eyes that I could swear were a slightly deeper shade of blue now.

“The fact that you haven’t left? What makes you think you have anything I want?”

He smiled. “But I do. I have information. We are playing a little game, you and I. I’m finding it more amusing than my usual fare.”

“Even though it’s not feeding you?”

“Not everything’s about food either. Perhaps I’m just enjoying this verbal sparring with someone who has enough intellect to know what I just said. Not to mention that thing on your hand radiates an oddly nourishing sort of energy. What is it?”

Wonderful. The demon was feeding off me after all. “It’s none of your concern,” I said.

“I beg to differ. It feels like the rift and it tastes like old magic.”

“You can taste it?” I was liking the sound of this less and less.

“We consume energy, my friend. I repeat, that thing _radiates_ energy. What does it do?”

 _Makes my life very complicated._ “Things,” I said blandly. “Want me to make something up?”

I thought that might annoy him, but he just laughed. His teeth were still unsettlingly sharp. “Fair enough. Are you sure there’s nothing you want but information? I can become any size or configuration you wish.”

“Information is sufficient,” I said. He seemed far too amused by that.

“I could become a copy of your friend, but,” he licked his lips suggestively, “ _enhanced_.”

“Don’t bother. I don’t want a copy, enhanced or otherwise.” 

“I didn’t think so, but I had to offer.”

“How long ago did you arrive here?”

“How long?” His expression went blankly annoyed. “The rift opened. Some investigated. Some more went through, then I went through. I’ve been here since.”

Coming from a timeless place to an unchanging routine on our side, he had no real concept of time. I tried another tack. “Can you describe the mages that caged the rift?”

He thought for several moments. “Yes. One longed for a time when he was a child and everything was small and safe and simple. Another wanted power and dreamt of being able to force her will on all the land. The third told himself he wanted relations with short, slender women, but in the dark corners of his psyche he hungered to have his way with children.”

“That…wasn’t exactly what I meant, but thank you.” 

He inclined his head graciously.

“Can you sense what I desire?” I asked. I admit I was curious.

He focused his catlike blue eyes on me, brows drawing together in concentration. I waited, and soon he blinked and gave his head a small shake. “Aside from the man you walked in with? No. That thing on your hand interferes. It is…loud. Only the strongest of your desires comes through.”

“I’m a little surprised you’d tell me the truth.”

“Then why did you ask?”

I had no answer to that so I ignored it. “If the rift were to close, what would you do?”

“What side of it am I on?” He was too perceptive by half.

“Suppose you were on this side.” I would try to ensure none of his kind were, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Suppose I was to say I’d search for a willing host. It is possible, you know.”

“Possible, not probable.”

“That depends. Yours are not the only people in this world. Some welcome us as teachers and companions.”

“Spirits, maybe. Not demons.”

He scowled. “It is you that make that designation. Why do you demonize desire, do you think? It’s quite natural.”

“I told you, it’s not desire we’re demonizing, it’s the way you possess people and devour their souls.”

He rolled his eyes. “No one has died here since we started this little venture. No one has walked away possessed. You know, if you’d like power I can arrange that.”

“I have power. More than enough, if you want to be picky about it. I also don’t need money or sex.” I signaled the serving girl that I’d like another beer. Over at the bar, I saw Dorian deep in conversation with what I assumed to be another desire demon. It said something and he laughed. Farther back in the big room, I could see the unmistakeable silhouette of The Iron Bull.

“You are, as they say, a tough nut to crack,” he said without malice.

“Who would be able to tell me about the rift? You could at least point me in that direction, seeing as you’re getting a free meal off the mark on my hand.”

He grinned. Now all his teeth were sharp and pointed. “Very well. You’ve entertained me, mage. There is an unmarked door at the back of this room. Go through it and you’ll see the unsightly guts of this building. To the right is another door that leads to offices. That’s where you’ll find the mastermind of this operation.”

“Thank you.” I stood. “It’s been an unexpected pleasure.”

He smiled up at me, keeping his teeth hidden. “Come by and see me sometime. I’d love to find out what makes you tick. You’d even enjoy it. I promise.”


	10. Strangers in the Night

Dorian quickly intercepted me and we walked over to an untenanted alcove. “The demons apparently have no interest in reporting us to management,” he said. “They’re also so well-fed they’re not feeling compelled to flock to us.”

“I noticed. Did you know they can sense and taste this damned mark?  Between it and our level of power, they had us pegged before we even crossed the barrier.”

“So much for being subtle and stealthy,” he said philosophically.

“Is everyone here now?”

“Well, Bull’s over there, and I saw Blackwall and Varric somewhere around here. Cass is parked at that little table over by the barrier trying not to look disapproving and not succeeding. Like you, I have been having a scintillating conversation with one of their purported purveyors of pleasure.”

I snort-laughed. “You’ve been saving that up to say, haven’t you?”

“Certainly not. Alliteration comes naturally to me,” he sniffed. “An unintentional by-product of having above-average facility with language. Did you find out anything about the rift?”

I nodded. “Three mages did the work. That’s all I know, though. My new friend over there doesn’t quite comprehend the concept of a physical description.”

“So is the fellow it turned into what you _really_ desire?” He was trying to look hurt, but I could see the amusement underneath.

“You know very well that you’re exactly what I desire,” I said sternly.

“Well yes, but it is nice to hear it on occasion.” 

“I told him I would not appreciate efforts to look just like you.”

“Just as well. He’d be a pale facsimile as best. Did you know the offices for this enterprise lie through a doorway at the back end of this room?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. I don’t see any way to quietly slip through it, though. Not with every desire demon in the room knowing what we are and the Mark making sure they’re all aware of my every movement.”

Dorian stroked the patch of hair under his lower lip. “Perhaps you should stay out here, amatus. You could serve as quite the distraction while the rest of us sneak back and see if we can  uncover who or what is running this and how they managed to bind a rift like that.”

I sighed. “I don’t like it, but that might work best. But if fireworks start in the back rooms I’m not waiting out here for you to tell me what’s happening.”

“Just take care you don’t lead an angry pack of desire demons straight to us in your attempt to help,” he advised.

“For all we know their janitor’s a pride demon.”

“The worst part of that statement is I actually considered it might be true,” he said with a theatrical shudder.

“Speaking of being obvious, how do you plan on _sneaking_ Bull through that door?”

“Well…he’s Ben Hassrath, or he was. He’s supposed to have skills, isn’t he? Between that and an obscurement spell-”

“That will draw the attention of every demon in the room that isn’t sniffing around me.”

“Oh, bother. That _is_ vexing. Perhaps we could disguise him as a particularly large armoire.”

The picture that brought to mind made me snort-laugh. 

“Oooh, did I miss a joke?” It was my friend the desire demon, probably come around for a little more free energy from the mark. He looked from Dorian to me with a hopeful smile.

“This is a private conversation,” I told him.

He pouted at me. “But what if I can help you?”

“How do we get through the door at the back of the room?” Dorian surprised me by asking.

“Is that all? Just walk through. It leads to a storeroom. If you’re trying to get to the offices, they’re through another door at the end of a hallway to the right once you’re through. That’s where they’ll stop you.”

I narrowed my eyes at the demon. “Why are you being so helpful?”

“It’s what you desire. Perhaps if I do it well enough, you’ll be inclined to like me. I do not wish to return to the Fade, and I’m thinking that’s why you’re nosing around here asking questions.”

“We didn’t even know about you lot when we came down here,” I said.

He smiled brightly. “Then you should let us alone.”

“Oh yes, that’s a marvelous idea,” Dorian said drily. 

“I could show you back there. If I’m taking you there, no one will worry like they would if they saw your group going into the back rooms on your own.”

“How about you go sit again and we’ll discuss it,” I countered.

The demon sighed. “Fine. I’ll sit. You wouldn’t get away with ordering me around like this if you didn’t _taste_ so good.”

Once the demon was seated, Dorian said accusingly, “You’re starting to like him.”

“I’m considering that his offer may not be unreasonable to accept, that’s all.”

“Kai, you know he’s playing you. You like clever people with an amoral streak and that’s exactly what he’s being.”

I grinned. “You’re worried about me. That’s sweet. Don’t worry, I know exactly what it’s doing. I’ve spent as much time in the Fade as you, I expect. But why shouldn’t we use it like it’s trying to use us?”

“As long as you’re not extending your legendary open-mindedness into foolish areas,” he said, looking mollified.

“I’m open-minded, not empty-headed,” I said. “We need to talk to the others.”

“You mean without looking like we’re a group of outsiders plotting something?”

I leaned against the wall. “Yes. That’s a problem.”

We watched as something that looked like a human/goat hybrid with oversized male genitalia walked past.

“I see the Chantry is here again tonight,” I remarked. “What do you think would happen if I did close that rift, bound as it is?”

“It might simply close,” Dorian said, stroking the patch of hair under his lower lip again. “Or it may implode or distort reality and take half this room or half the neighborhood with it.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

A looming shadow blocked the light as Iron Bull joined us in our alcove. “Hey guys, I know you’re not professional spies, but when you’re on a job you normally don’t spend all your time talking to the other spies.”

I chuckled. “We know that, but this is not a normal job.”

“Besides, Kai’s recruited a demon for us,” Dorian said with a sideways smile.

“I never know whether to be amused or afraid when you two start talking magic,” Bull said. “Don’t you think you’re taking your _recruit everyone_ drive a little too far, Boss?”

“Dorian is embellishing a bit,” I said. 

We explained the situation to him.  “So we either run the gauntlet of demons and clients tonight, or we could try to come back during the day tomorrow and see whether that would be easier,” I finished.

Bull scratched delicately under his eyepatch and looked over the crowd. “Sounds like you don’t think it would be.”

“I don’t know if demons rest, but they’ve got to be doing something somewhere during the day.”

“They also have the three mages that were able to bind that rift and possibly more,” Dorian added, “not to mention the likelihood of conventional security.”

Bull nodded. “Yeah, everybody always thinks they should come back to places like this during the day when they want to do things like break and enter. And these guys have a lot to hide.”

“So do you have any suggestions speaking as a master spy?” Dorian asked.

“Find a back door?”

“In all my days that would never have occurred to me,” Dorian deadpanned.

“Why go looking?” I motioned my pet demon over. He was there so quickly I wasn’t sure that he actually walked the gap between us.

“Something you desire?” he said brightly.

“Yeah. Is there a back door to this place?” Bull said.

The demon looked him up and down and wrinkled his nose. “What is _that_?”

“You’ve never met a Qunari?” I said.

“I think I’d remember if I had. The Fade isn’t _that_ diffuse. Is it a pet?”

“Why would you think that?” Dorian asked.

“Well, it’s been bred to look that way, hasn’t it?”

“ _He_ is capable of answering that himself,” I said, filing his remark away to think about later. “He’s a person as much as anyone else here.”

“Possibly more,” Dorian murmured as a man walked past wearing nothing but a demon that appeared to be mostly tentacles.

“Whatever you say.” The demon cast one more suspicious look at Bull.  “Anyway, yes there’s a back door but it’s locked and warded. Otherwise we’d have people breaking in during the day.”

“Could you open it for us? Without triggering an alarm?” I asked.

“You’re asking an awful lot,” my demon griped.

“And you’re probably feeding off my mark as we speak. Well?”

He sighed gustily. “I could. But if they found out it was me they might push me back into the Fade. You want me to do it, you have to offer me protection.”

“We guarantee no one will know it was you,” Dorian said.

“I was thinking perhaps a small house in a better part of town,” he pouted.

“You’re just opening a door. I’m sure we could come up with a way without you,” I said.

“No you can’t. I’m indispensable,” he insisted. 

“That remains to be seen,” I said.

“So what’s the quickest way to the back of the building?” Bull asked.

“How should I know? I’ve never been outside it,” my demon replied. “The spot the door opens onto looks downright inhospitable.”

 “Indispensable,” Bull snorted.

“If you weren’t the size of a bloody house they might not _need_ to find another way back,” he retorted.

“Enough,” I said, and addressed my demon. “Never mind the back door for the moment. Just- what do we call you, anyway?”

“Whatever you desire,” he said with a smarmy smile.

“Banished?” Bull said.

“I don’t like him,” my demon complained.

“Never mind him. Kai’s right. We can’t just call you _hey, demon_ ,” Dorian said.

“I don’t care,” he said. “I’ve never had a name before. I wouldn’t know how to go about it.”

“Damon?” Bull suggested.

My demon sniffed. “I don’t want _his_ name.”

“Ira?” Dorian said. “It’s not particularly imaginative, but it’s easy to remember.”

“Why Ira?” I asked.

“Because Desi’s too obvious.”

He tapped a finger against his lips and finally said, “I can live with that. Does this mean I’m a person now?”

“You’re a demon with a code name,” I corrected. 

“I can live with that too,” the newly-minted Ira said.

“We need to go out to the common room and talk. Will you wait for us?”

“Buy me a drink and I will.”

“I don’t imagine alcohol has any effect on you,” Dorian said.

“Well I imagine it does,” Ira retorted. “Besides, it gives me something to do while I’m waiting. Otherwise the boss might ask why I’m not entertaining the rubes.”

Bull narrowed his good eye at the demon. “The what?”

“Ask the boss what it means. It’s just something she says.”

“Whatever. Just wait here,” I said.

“Already waiting. This is better than anything else I’ll get to do tonight.” Ira took the drink I handed him and parked himself on a nearby bar stool.


	11. Say a Spell

We crossed the threshold back to the common room. Sera, Cassandra and Varric were sitting at the table we’d commandeered when we’d entered the place. 

“Didn’t want to get your dreams fulfilled?” I said as we sat.

“Not by that lot,” Sera said.

“I cannot fraternize with those creatures,” Cassandra said. “If they sense what you and Dorian are they will like it, it seems. Not so if they know what I am. And I find the thought of them abhorrent.”

Varric smiled. “I just figured it looked like the three of you were doing well enough on your own.”

“Where’s Blackwall?” asked Bull.

“He’s got himself a giiiirlfriend,” Sera sing-songed, gesturing towards the other side of the room.

“Well, at least we know she didn’t come from the rift,” Dorian murmured as we all looked. Blackwall was parked at a small round table across from a woman around his own age whose brunette hair was pulled back in a loose pony tail. They were talking intently.

“I feel almost guilty doing this,” I said and cast a small force spell; just enough to nudge him and get his attention.

Blackwall started as the spell hit him, looking around for the source of what probably felt like someone had poked him. He saw us all staring at him and gave a faint nod. We gave him a minute to extricate himself from his conversation and join us at the table.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “Seemed like the least obtrusive way to get your attention.”

“Well, it did that,” he agreed. “She was just telling me that this club has been active for over half a year. Tried to sell me on joining her in an _adventure in the dream room_ — her words. She was telling me some of her earlier adventures just now. She’s…not quite as imaginative as she thinks she is.”

We discussed what would work best given the circumstances and decided, rather than have me remain in the main room as a decoy, Cassandra, Bull, Sera and I would go out and find the back door, retrieving our weapons on the way. Dorian, Varric and Blackwall would enter through the door at the back of the rift room with the help of Ira, who would then open the door for the rest of us.

“And you are going to get that creature to agree to all this,” Cassandra said skeptically. We were avoiding calling the demons what they were in case staff overheard us despite a few subtle privacy spells Dorian and I had cast.

“I taste good,” I said. “Just let me talk to him.”

“Just remember – he knows exactly what sorts of things you like,” Dorian said quietly as I stood.

I smiled. “Don’t worry, I know. He’s not the only one adept at playing games, and before you say it I will not allow myself to get overconfident. He also has very sharp teeth.”

Dorian grinned. “Oh, he does know how to press your buttons.”

I gave him an arch smile back. “Perhaps, but you press them better.”

I returned to the rift room.

_=#=_

Ira was still sitting at the same small table. He was perfectly still and expressionless until he sensed me approaching. It was like someone had activated him, as expression and animation returned.  He widened his cat-eyes brightly as I sat across from him. 

“Well? Am I to be part of this adventure you seem to be determined to have?”

“I hope so, yes.” I outlined what we wanted him to do.

Ira gave me a suspicious frown. ”That sounds like a plan that is optimised to get me into the most trouble possible. What do _I_ get out of it?”

“I thought you wanted nothing more than to serve your customers’ every whim,” I said.

“Oh, please. You never thought that,” he scoffed. “I’m not joking here. You’re asking much of me. Knowing your kind, you’re probably still planning on pushing me back through that rift before you’re done.”

I would get one of the more clever desire demons. “Alright, I’ll bite,” I countered. “What is it _you_ desire?”

His smile was broad without showing teeth and appeared to be genuine. “What do I desire? Oh, this _is_ fun. What fortune that I reached you first. I want two things. I want to stay here when you do whatever it is you’re going to do. And I want you to take that glove off for at least a few minutes before we go our separate ways.”

“You’re asking much of me,” I echoed back at him. “How can I in good conscience allow you to remain here?”

“You’re the one with the powers. You mean you can’t come up with one idea?”

“Give me a minute.”

“Take longer if you like. I’ve got all the time in the world,” he said lazily.

I went back out to the common room and returned to my seat. “He wants to stay when we shut things down.”

Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Of course it does. You told it no, I hope.”

“I haven’t told it anything yet, but we could use his help,” I replied.

“He or it, it’s too much of a threat,” she said.

“Not as much as you might think. One thing you may not have considered – because it’s targeting me, what I desire is affecting its behaviour and the way it chooses to act.”

“You mean it’s becoming the sort of person you’d want it to be?” Varric said. 

“Interesting. The Chantry never mentioned that all demons are not alike,” Blackwall said.

“Desire demons in particular would rather negotiate than fight. It dared me to come up with a way to accommodate it.”

“What about one of those magic compulsion-things? Can’t you do those?” Sera asked.

“You mean a geas?” Dorian asked.

“I guess. Stupid name for it anyway,” she said. “Dunno what geese have to do with making someone do shite.”

“It’s not-” Dorian began then thought better of it. “Oh, never mind. How are you at them, amatus?”

I ran my thumb along my jawline, which was, as usual, rough with stubble. “Iffy. I don’t ever do them; I’ve only ever cast them to practice. You?”

He shook his head. “It’s not something that comes up often in Necromancy or elemental magic. So, the same – I’ve played with them but never crafted one seriously.”

“So can you do it or not?” Blackwall cut to the chase.

“Maybe if we worked together?” I said to Dorian.

“I don’t see why not,” he said.  “I was a prodigy, after all.”

“As was I, even though I started later,” I couldn’t resist adding.

“Augh, we’re gonna be here all night,” Sera groaned. “I’m getting a drink.”

“No more than you can handle and still aim perfectly,” I warned. “We’re not going to take that long.”

The others left us alone as we moved to a smaller table and quietly cast a privacy spell around ourselves. Within a half hour we had hashed out what we wanted the geas to do and how to go about casting it properly. Once we were sure we were both happy with it, we returned to the rift room and Ira.


	12. Obscure Alternatives

“You know, when I said take longer I didn’t mean it quite that literally,” he said testily. “That was a lot more than a minute.”

“You want to participate in this fun-filled adventure or not?” I said.

He breathed in deeply. I knew he was sucking up energy from the mark, not just sighing. “Fine. What have you come up with? I see you brought your other half along.”

“I believe the idiom is ‘better half’,” Dorian said.

Ira shrugged. “I have no idea which one of you might be better. _He_ tastes better. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“Would you accept a geas?” I asked.

“What do waterfowl have to do with anything?”

“Very funny.” I gave him a stern glare. “Well? Would you?”

He narrowed eyes that were now blue-green but still catlike. “What does this geas entail?”

We paused as a server placed drinks in front of us. I took a sip, found it too warm and cast a cooling spell then continued. “If you want to stay, you take on the geas. No possessing anyone. No excessive feeding off any one person. No enthralling anyone to do your bidding so they do all the work and you lounge around like a sloth demon all day. You claim you want to experience life here, then you get to honestly experience it. There are a few more specific caveats, but that’s the gist of it. Still interested?”

“You expect me to say no, don’t you? Well, I am interested. As long as you don’t add in a compulsion for me to kill myself or something equally underhanded.”

I was a little surprised he agreed so readily. Either he was serious or there was a loophole we’d overlooked. “No self-destruct traps, no. You’ll be essentially agreeing to what they’ve already got you doing here, though you wouldn’t have to stick to this as an occupation.”

“And you let me stay and take that glove off for a few minutes before we part ways?” At my nod he said, “Then let’s do this.”

“Shall we take this to one of the private rooms?” Dorian said. 

“Let’s. It’ll make my employers think I’ve been doing my job,” Ira said.

We stood and he wormed his way in between Dorian and me, putting an arm around each of our waists as we made our way to one of the hastily constructed cubicles around the perimeter of the big room.

We entered one and shut the door. Ira gave us a sultry smile. “You know, I could take you both on at once. You could still do each other at the same time. Any configuration you like. I’ve got some you probably haven’t even thought of.”

“Thanks, but no,” I said firmly.

“Oh, come now. Are you telling me you were never curious what a threesome might be like?”

“I, for one, am remarkably devoid of curiosity at the moment,” Dorian said.

“Well, if you change your minds, _I’m_ curious.” He sat on the bed. “So what do I do?”

“Think of the casting as a request. All you have to do is accept it,” I said.

“What if I change my mind after?”

“That’s the thing about a geas. You can’t change your mind. It won’t let you,” Dorian said.

“You realize how much faith I’ll be putting in you?” He looked a little worried, and I can’t say I blamed him. “Don’t think I don’t know you don’t really think of me as a person. _We_ never called ourselves demons, you know. _You_ call us that.”

Dorian cocked his head to one side, eyes bright with curiosity. “What _do_ you call yourselves?”

Ira’s cat eyes now mirrored Dorian’s light grey. “We never have. We just _are._ I believe what you would say is we are the anthropomorphic personification of desire in all its forms.”

“Are there a set number of you? Do you reproduce somehow?”

Ira narrowed his eyes at Dorian. “You are inquisitive, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged,” Dorian said with a smile.

“This is easier when the unimaginative mump I’ve set my sights on just wants to think an attractive woman would be interested in him,” he said ruefully. “Very well. There aren’t a set number of us, but I’m not sure about the mechanism by which we come into existence. Perhaps we start out as spirits with no set identity? Perhaps we’re called into existence from the raw Fade when someone’s desire is strong enough to leak through the Veil? I don’t know. I never asked and no one ever told me. Now you’re making me curious.”

What was most fascinating was he meant that. As he continued to tailor himself into what I – and by extension, Dorian – desired, he was changing his own essential nature. I wondered if the process would continue once he was away from us.

As I was thinking that, Dorian said, “Ira, I need a moment with Kai before we continue. Would you mind?”

“I could get us drinks?” Ira suggested. We agreed and he slipped out the door.

Dorian waited an extra moment then echoed my own thoughts at me. “Amatus…I’m starting to think we may be in the process of creating a person if we put this geas on Ira. Is this right? Should we be doing this?”

“You think the personality he’s been developing might stick? Is that necessarily a bad thing?” 

“If we send him back to the Fade, yes.”

“The geas is so we can in good conscience _not_ send him back.”

Dorian grinned and shook his head.

“What?”

“I knew you were going to do that. Keep him here, I mean. I could see you growing fond of him despite all your talk of being wary.”

“Well…desire demons aren’t like your average demon. They’ve never given me a problem in the Fade. I mean, yes the occasional one made an attempt at possession, but they always backed off and didn’t seem to take it personally.”

“You’re rationalizing. I agree, but you are. Now seriously, Kai, we should look at what we’re doing here.”

“What do your spirits have to say about it?” Dorian deals with spirits associated with death on a regular basis as part of his being a necromancer.

“They have no opinion. It isn’t their bailiwick. It is a pity Cole isn’t here; he’s likely to have more insight than everyone else combined.”

I leaned against the wall and hoped I wouldn’t go right through it. “Well, I think if Ira wants it, we should encourage it.”

“Wants what?” the demon said as he pushed the door open and handed us our drinks.

“We have reason to think you’re becoming a person,” Dorian said.

“Is that something you want?” I asked, “Because if you take this geas on that rather forces you to behave more like one…well, this could be a one-way journey for you.”

Ira sat on the bed and swallowed half his drink. “I wonder if this is why they didn’t want mages in here. Would I be in this form from now on? Would I age?”

“We really don’t know. We’ve got virtually no information to reference,” Dorian said. “Chances are you’d retain some of your essence as a spirit, but we couldn’t tell you how much or what that would mean regarding your abilities.”

“If I promise to help you even without the geas, can I think about it? This is different from possessing someone. What if I become mortal? Could that happen?”

“We don’t know,” I admitted. “We didn’t come here expecting this to happen. We only know one other spirit this happened to, but the circumstances were entirely different.”

“Is _it_ mortal?”

I sighed. “We don’t know. We haven’t known him and he hasn’t been a person long enough to draw any conclusions.”

“I need to think,” Ira reiterated. “And don’t you dare say to me this is what I wanted. This isn’t possession, this is _being._ ” A look of horror crossed his face. “Would I have to eat and- and- eliminate waste? Does the spirit you know have to do that?”

Dorian and I looked at each other. “I…don’t _think_ so,” he said.

“I never asked,” I admitted. “And when we were in the field, I don’t recall that I ever noticed. There were times it was hard enough to notice _him_ , let alone whether or not he started using the privy.”

“How is it that you drink?” Dorian asked Ira.

He shrugged. “Liquid evaporates. Liquid can be incorporated into the form you’re taking. Liquid’s easy, and it’s easily disposed of.”

“So do you feel anything off the alcohol, for example?”

Ira smiled faintly. “If I want to.”

“This isn’t getting us anywhere, fascinating as it is,” I said. “Ira, go ahead and think very hard about whether or not you want to go through with taking on the limitations we’ve fashioned. If you do, we’ll ensure you stay on this side of the Veil. If you don’t want to, well, perhaps you’re happier in the Fade than you thought. Regardless, we need to do something about that rift out there and the ones running this little operation, and the sooner the better.”

“I’ll still open the door for you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We appreciate that. Shall we do this, then?”

“It would be nice to finish this before dawn,” Dorian said.

“Are all you mages this talky?” asked Ira.

We didn’t answer, just trouped out of the small room. Ira made a face as we walked back toward the barrier. “What’s that look supposed to be?” I asked.

“A sated leer, of course. You don’t want them thinking we were just talking in there. I suppose you want me to wait here again.”

“Since they won’t let you across the threshold, yes.”

“I’ll be at the bar. You might try to be a little quicker this time.”

“We’ll be right back,” Dorian said. “How long should it take them to get round to the back of the building?”

Ira rolled his eyes. “I _told_ you I’ve never been back there. For all I know they have a magical pit around the back door that swallows anyone who doesn’t know the password.”

Dorian and I looked at each other. “You don’t suppose…” I said.

He shook his head. “Certainly not. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have a careful look for traps.” He turned his gaze on Ira. “ _Is_ there a password?”

Ira frowned. “Maybe. I don’t know. They never tell us anything. It’s just work, work, work.”

“Well, give us a few minutes to get moving out there then head to the back,” I said. “Do you think you’ll have a problem waiting there if it takes us more time?”

“As long as they follow my lead, there won’t be any problem,” Ira said confidently. 

I squeezed Dorian’s hand. He held mine an extra few seconds. “We’ll see you soon, then. Don’t get so distracted counting the minutes until you can once again see my exquisite countenance that you make mistakes.”

“I’ll try not to,” I said drily. “Just be ready. We don’t know what’s back there, but they have mages capable of caging a rift.”

He smiled. “Amatus, we are far more lethal and undoubtedly better-looking.”

I walked back across the threshold.


	13. Dark Entries

Acting as though I was giving a spirited description of what we’d been doing in the rift room, I told Blackwall and Varric what I’d already discussed with Dorian and Ira.

Blackwall squinted at me. “Ira?”

“We had to call him something. Desi’s too obvious.”

Blackwall looked sideways at Varric. “Still think Andraste chose him?”

“They do say she moves in mysterious ways,” Varric said with a smile. “This adventure might not make it into the book, though.”

“We’ll see you on the other side,” Blackwall said to me. They ambled across the threshold, looking convincingly like they were egging each other on to sample what the room had to offer.

I joined Sera, Bull and Cassandra for a little playacting as we prepared to leave.

“You should at least try it,” I said loudly enough that others would be able to overhear.

“Yeah!” Bull licked his lips lasciviously. 

“I’ve given it as much a chance as I wish,” Cassandra sniffed.

“I’ll be buggered if I’m gonna trust that lot,” Sera said. “Bartender on that side slips you something stronger, they get you in one of those squidgy little rooms, kack you upside the head and roll you, more like. Then magic you so you think you had just the dog’s bollocks of a time.”

“That didn’t happen to me,” I protested.

“Yeah, well you had Dor with you and only one of them,” she countered. “Not. Gonna. Happen.”

“Then what was the point of bringing you?” I said testily.

“None, I suppose. Can we leave now?” Cass said.

We trudged to the exit. 

“Well, _I_ had fun,” Bull said cheerfully.

We stayed in character until we were out of sight and earshot of the door to the club, then made our way to the building where our weapons were stashed. We equipped our own weapons then I took Dorian’s staff and Bull strapped on Blackwall’s broadsword. Sera picked up Varric’s crossbow, Bianca, and eyed it critically as she tested it. “Dunno why he acts like this thing is the bow to end all bows. You ask me, it’s clunky.”

“Better not let him hear you insulting Bianca like that,” Bull said with a grin.

“Yeah, well he’s welcome to it.”

“Time to get practical, people. There’s not a _don’t-notice-me_ spell powerful enough to sufficiently obscure all of us, but I’ll do what I can,” I said.

“Do we have any idea what’s back there?” Cass asked.

“Not really. Ira said it looked grotty. Mind you, he also said it could be magically booby trapped. He doesn’t know much because they never let the demons out of the club.”

“At least you remember that it’s a demon,” she said, giving me the hairy eyeball.

“Not all demons are the same,” I replied. “And he’s going to get the others to the back for us and open the door, so do try to be civil.”

“Guess we should just go back and look,” Bull said. “Hey, Sera, you want to-”

“ _No_ ,” she said with finality.

“Aw, c’mon, it was just one time.”

“Shut it, you. We’re supposed to be sneaking.”

“But if we act like we’re sneaking, everyone’ll _know_ we’re sneaking,” Bull countered.

“Ha ha. You’re still not chucking me about.”

As we rounded the back of the building, we stopped talking and I cast another concealment spell.

There was so much junk in the alley, much of it had to be deliberately planted. It was also dark.

“It is blacker than a magister’s heart back here,” Cassandra muttered.

“Oh, sure, pick on the mages for your simile,” I complained.

“Think it’s safe to throw a little light on this, Boss?” Bull asked.

“Just a moment.” I checked in the magical spectrum, looking for tell-tale signs of traps or set spells. Times like that it would have been nice to have Dorian there; he could have asked the death spirits he works with if they sensed anything deadly. “I think I can get away with a low light. That is, unless Cassandra would rather use flint and steel and fashion a torch for us.” 

“Very funny. Just cast the light, mage.”

Grinning, I cast a low, diffuse light that would allow us to see what was in front of us without being bright or sharp enough to be noticeable.

They’d certainly managed to make the alley inhospitable. Along with the suspiciously large amount of junk choking it, it smelled of garbage and stale piss. We picked our way down the narrow navigable stretch that wove vaguely down the middle of the alley. As we neared the point where the back entrance to the club should be, Bull held up one hand. 

We waited until he pointed and said quietly, “Trip wire. Might just alert someone or something might take your head off.”

“Don’t step over it until I check for magical traps. It’d be too easy to set one up right there. I know I would,” I said.

There was a trap of some sort just past the trip wire. I couldn’t tell anything more than it was magical without triggering it, so we simply avoided both traps. “Don’t forget about them on the way out,” Cassandra admonished.

Past that bottleneck the alley had been cleared. We could see the back doors — a large one for receiving deliveries and a normal one a short way to the left. There were no evident traps, but we continued to proceed cautiously. Cassandra was on point, with Bull just behind and to her right. Sera and I were hanging back, as both of us work best at a distance from any enemy. 

Suddenly, Bull slowed to a stop. “Uh…guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”

We caught up with him as I said, “What? Why not?”

He shook his head. “I got a bad feeling about this.”

“There’s a stonking great crowd of demons in there,” Sera said, voice starting to quaver.

Their sudden lack of confidence was making _me_ feel nervous.

Cassandra had been staring at the non-descript door wide-eyed. Now she gave her head an abrupt shake and said angrily, “This is a place of evil. Andraste guides me and I will not be cowed. We go in.”

And it all made sense. “Oh, fuck me,” I said with a short laugh. “Bull, Sera, Cass is right. Keep moving forward.”

They followed Cassandra and me reluctantly, and about ten paces later the feeling lifted. “What the bloody void?” Sera said.

“It was a fear spell,” I explained. “They don’t affect me much-”

“I would not expect so when you’re in a relationship with a Necromancer,” Cass observed.

I nodded. “And Cassandra’s Seeker training combined with her sheer bloody-mindedness (Cass snorted at that) meant all it really did to her was piss her off. Still, I imagine it’s enough to keep average people away.”

“Wankers,” Sera said.

“I should’ve known,” Bull grumbled.

“Why? You Qunari avoid magic like the plague and treat your mages like shite,” I said matter-of-factly.

He gave a non-committal grunt and left it at that.

The final line of defense was a series of wards around the door, but as we approached I saw them disappear and the door opened. Ira stuck his head out and motioned us in, a fussy little frown tugging at his lips. “Hurry up, will you? The wards are going to rearm any second.”

We hurried. Ira herded us into a large, dimly-lit room filled with casks and boxes. The others were sitting on some of the boxes, and rose as we entered. I gave Dorian a quick kiss hello, handed him his staff and said, “Any problems?”

“One of our friend’s colleagues offered to join in on our orgy and had to be convinced it wasn’t needed, but otherwise no,” Blackwall said, accepting his broadsword from Bull.

“Are we sure the people running this are here?” Cassandra asked.

“They are every night,” Ira said. 

“There’s an emphatically locked door down a short hallway near here,” Dorian said. “Ira says it leads to the other half of this building where his masters are.”

“Employers,” Ira sniffed.

“Are you allowed to come and go as you please?”

Ira glowered and didn’t answer.

“How emphatic are we talking?” Bull wanted to know.

“Warded to a fare-thee-well and conventionally locked,” Dorian said. “Kai, I’d say you and I will be able to dismiss the wards without a great deal of difficulty.”

I made a noise of agreement. “As long as Sera and Varric can handle the locks, we should be in quick and hopefully quietly.”

“ ‘Course we can,” Sera scoffed.

“You mages aren’t the only multifaceted ones, you know,” Varric said as he inspected Bianca.

“Might I point out at this point there is no way I can convince anyone you’re anything but an invading horde now?” Ira said.

“You don’t have to come along for the rest of this,” I told him. “You’ve done your part admirably.”

“You don’t honestly expect me to go away after all this, do you?” he said, looking shocked.

“Perhaps we don’t want you along,” Cassandra said.

“Now, Seeker, he’s not so bad,” Varric said.

Blackwall was eyeing him beardily. “I just want to know if he can hold his own in a fight.”

Ira grinned. The grin gained teeth as he morphed into something closer to his true form (if a desire demon can be said to have a true form). The cat eyes stayed the same, but his skin turned a mottled purple-blue and his hands lengthened, growing long, vicious-looking claws. “You needn’t worry about me.” 

“Nice trick,” Blackwall said.

“You should change back now,” Sera said a bit shrilly.

Cassandra made one of her _I am not pleased_ noises.

“Any idea how much opposition we can expect?” Bull asked as Ira slid back into his human appearance. 

“’I’m not sure, but they’ve got muscle _and_ mages, so there’s plenty to go around,” Ira said.

“Then perhaps we should get out of this stuffy little room and discover what delightful foes this picturesque town has to offer,” Dorian said.

We would have cast at least some form of concealment spell to help mitigate the chance of someone seeing us, but there was too much chance that the unknown mage or mages would sense that, so we had to trust to everyone being busy working on the other side of the club.

We got lucky and made it into the short hallway that housed the door to the inner sanctum without encountering anyone. All of us crammed in that one small area made for a tight fit and made me re-think going in as a group. “Any volunteers to stay on this side as backup? I’m thinking it would be foolish to go in all at once,” I said. “We also need someone ready to cover a potential retreat.”

“I’ll stay back,” Varric said. “Bianca and I can blend into the scenery more easily than some of the rest of you.”

“As will I. Should they bring demons in from the other side to help, I’m best equipped to deal with them,” Cassandra said.

Varric grinned. “So it’s just you and me, Seeker.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You are impossible.”

I smiled, but turned my attention back to logistics. “Right. Thank you. Given they have an unknown number of mages back there, Dorian and I will take point. Blackwall, cover Dorian. Ira, you stay with me _(I said that primarily so if he turned on us, I’d be the one to deal with him since I’d brought him in in the first place)_. Bull and Sera, you know what to do.”

“Got it, Boss,” Bull said.

“Good. Then let’s have a look at those wards, shall we?”

Dorian and I approached the door, inspecting it in the magical spectrum. “They’re very pretty,” I said.

“They also look somehow familiar,” Dorian said, frowning as he crouched down to inspect them more closely.

I traced the patterns of their construction while I waited for him to follow that line of thought. They looked intricate, frozen filigrees of magical intent wrapping themselves up and down the doorway, but the more I studied them, the more I could see their underlying simplicity. “I don’t think they were expecting much in the way of magical opposition,” I said. “These _look_ good, but they’re relatively easy to dismantle.”

“Mm hm,” he said absently, eyes moving along the lines of the wards. “Juuuust a moment… _Kaffas!_ ” He stood suddenly, face set and angry. “Venatori.”


	14. Penetration

“Well, doesn’t that just figure,” Blackwall drawled.

“All the more reason to shut this operation down,” I said.

“The sooner the better,” Dorian said grimly. We set about dismantling the wards. As I said, their intricacy was almost all surface frippery; they used the same simple pattern for all of them at the base. We were done with them in less than five minutes.

Then it was time for Sera and Varric. We stood out of the way as they came forward and studied the locks. Sera stuck one of her lockpicking tools in the main lock, jiggled it about a bit and laughed. “Stupid wankers. It’s just like your ward-thingy. Lock looks like it means business, but it’s a cheap-arsed load of bollocks. Still, sod’s law — they could’ve hidden something nasty here.” 

She fiddled more with it, snorting as it _snik_ ed open. “Nope. Lock was total bollocks. Unless Varric’s got the bad one.” She stepped back to give Varric room to work the second lock.

Much as she had, he probed it carefully with his tools, studied it a little more, fiddled with it again and shook his head as his too opened. “You were right, Buttercup. Barely worth the effort.” He picked Bianca back up. “If they’re as good at fighting as they are at locksmithing, you should be back in a few minutes. Still, good luck. We’ll hold down the escape route.”

I thanked him and eased the door open. There was just more featureless hallway on the other side, but it turned sharply to the right some ten paces or so in. It was a smart design defensively. We checked for traps around the threshold then headed cautiously down the hall.

The turn took us into another short hall that dead-ended. There was a door on the left side at the end that we studied for traps and damned if we didn’t find one. It was a set spell—the sort you have to say a password in order to disarm. I turned to Ira. “You wouldn’t happen to know the word they use to open this door, would you?”

He sucked in his cheeks. “I might. If they haven’t changed it. I don’t suppose you’d like to take that glove off and give me just a little taste to help out?”

“No, I wouldn’t like,” I said flatly. “Do you know it or not?”

“I’ll try the one I know,” he said with a put-upon sigh. He stepped up to the door and said, “Arcanus.”

“Well _that’s_ bloody original,” Dorian said sardonically.

“Why? What’s it mean?” Sera asked.

He waggled his fingers theatrically at her. “Magic.”

She snorted. “Figures.”

Ira turned the handle and the door opened smoothly. 

“Let me guess — they’ve never changed the password,” Iron Bull said. “Amateurs, Boss.”

Dorian and I cast _don’t-notice-me_ spells on all of us and we went through the door as stealthily as half a dozen people can.

We were in a shabby hallway painted a foul shade of green. There were lamps mounted along walls, but fully half of them weren’t lit. “We should have been challenged by now,” Ira said quietly.

“Well, if they’re trying to trap us, it’s only polite to oblige them,” Blackwall said.

“We will. For the moment, though, I’d like you all to wait here a few minutes. I want to scout ahead before we go any further. If we go ahead like this, there’s no chance of not being noticed,” I said.

“Why you? I should be doing the scouting,” Sera objected.

“Because there are Venatori mages somewhere up ahead, and I’m better equipped to deal with them.”

“You mean _we’re_ better equipped,” Dorian said.

“Yes, which is why you need to stay with the others while I have a look,” I said. 

“I could come with,” Ira offered. “I know the layout here. Mostly.”

I nodded. “All right. This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes anyway.”

Dorian looked at me disapprovingly, and the others seemed nearly as unimpressed with my decision, though no one said anything. I hoped they understood I’d rather keep Ira with me if he was going to turn on us. _My demon, my responsibility,_ I thought. Besides, if he was being honest he could be an asset.

I cast another _don’t-notice-me_ spell on us and we moved down the hall. Rather like the entryway to the club, we first passed several locked doors, most of which looked like they’d been locked since sometime in the last century. We came to a junction and Ira indicated we should turn left. I peered around the corner. At the end of the short hallway to the left I saw two hulking men standing in front of a banded door that looked like ironwood. To the right the corridor led to more closed doors. At its end was a jumble of old furniture and one sorry-looking potted plant.

“You know anything about the muscle down there?” I whispered.

“The one on the right’s greatest desire is to save enough money to open his own roadside inn. The one on the left just likes to crack skulls and he’s not particular whose. He also wants power, but his main motivator is violence.”

I really needed to remember that desire demons don’t see things the same way we do. “I meant do you know any weaknesses? Are they using anything to resist magic? Are they mages? That sort of thing.”

Ira shrugged. “I don’t know. I never asked. I don’t think they’re mages, though. They just guard things.”

“What’s through the door they’re guarding?”

“The bosses’ offices and quarters and things. Why else would they be there?”

I gave him a sharp look. “You’ve never actually been back there, have you?”

“Well, no,” he said sulkily. “Only the important people get to go back there.”

“How many important people are there?”

His brows drew together as he thought. “A lot?”

I gave a mental sigh. _They do not think like people. That includes our obsession with keeping count of things._

We returned to the others. I outlined what I’d seen, adding, “Ira gave me some useful information. When we take the guards out, concentrate on the one on the left. Kill him if you need to. He’ll do whatever he can to inflict damage. The one on the right has plans for the future, so he’s likely to be more interested in self-preservation. There probably won’t be time for anything too elaborate, but we might be able to neutralize him without killing him.”

“Not really too worried about his plans for the future,” Blackwall said. “Most soldiers have those too. Doesn’t stop them trying to separate your head from the rest of you.”

We worked out a quick strategy and got moving.

Back in his default form, Ira turned into the hallway. As he approached the guards, he waved the one on the left over to him, saying, “Bon jour, Marcel. Can I talk to you a minute? I think there’s something funny going on up front but I don’t know if it’s worth troubling the bosses over.”

As Marcel moved away from the door, many things happened in quick succession. 

Dorian and I were still trying to keep the spellcasting low key so we didn’t tip our hands to the Venatori mages as to how powerful we really are. Because of that, Dorian cast a simple barrier spell on everyone along with a freezing spell on Marcel. During the moments Marcel was fighting off his temporary immobility, Blackwall simply walked up and clocked him with his sword pommel, knocking the big man out cold.

His violence-loving partner didn’t come to his aid because while that was going on I cast a flashbang at him (which is what it sounds like — just a bright light and a loud noise to stun and disorient. It takes very little power to cast, and is about the same as throwing a firework into the target’s face). He drew his sword but couldn’t see or hear properly, so he never saw Sera fire the five arrows in quick succession. One stuck in his armour, but the other four hit home. I wasn’t sure which one killed him: the one through his throat, another that found its way through a gap in his armour and into his abdomen through his left side, the one that hit his temple, or the shot that shattered part of his cheek and lodged itself in his eye. No matter what else you may think about Sera (personally I adore her), her ability with a bow is almost uncanny.

I’m sure it sounds unnecessarily cruel to have done that to the second guard (and perhaps overly trusting of my demon), but sometimes you have to do what’s expedient. Unless we could knock them both out simultaneously, Guard B would raise the alarm at seeing Guard A incapacitated and the logistics in that corridor weren’t such that we could do that without alerting everyone inside. So I chose to at least save one. Maybe I was wrong to make that call, but second guessing what you do in combat situations will just end up giving you a headache.

We got out of the corridor as quickly as possible, dragging both guards with us. Marcel we tied up, then we deposited them both in one of the unused rooms back in the first corridor. A quick search of their pockets turned up a few keys that we took with us; the third one we tried unlocked the door.


	15. Who You Are

Now that it was unguarded, we waited just outside while The Iron Bull flung the door open and strode in bellowing, “Hey, someone said I could find the boss here! Anyone around a customer can talk to?”

“Who the void are you?” a peeved male voice said.

“Are you the owner?” Bull asked.

“The owner cannot be disturbed.”

“Then they’re here?” Bull said brightly.

“That’s not something that concerns you.”

“Well, actually, it is.” His voice dropped conspiratorially.  “See, there’s this little redhead-”

“I don’t know how you got in here,” the man sounded more peeved, “but you need to leave. Now.”

“Or what?” Bull said in a flat tone that was our cue to enter. “You’ll call your Venatori in? Go right ahead. We’d love to meet them.”

The peeved man was middle-aged and of average height and build, with dark hair in a severe cut and brown eyes. He didn’t look surprised at our invasion of what turned out to be a large, luxuriously appointed anteroom. He looked us up and down, his upper lip curling ever-so-slightly. “I suppose I don’t need to ask _you and what army_.”

I stepped forward and said, “So who is running this little enterprise? The Venatori?”

I’ll give the man credit — he was unflappable. He looked me over with that same disdainful expression. “Who wants to know?”

“Ever heard of the Inquisition?” Sera said.

His eyebrows raised a micrometer. “What would the vaunted Inquisition want with a small business establishment in Val Chevin?”

“We’d rather discuss that with the persons running this small business,” I said.

“How do I even know you are who you say you are? You look like a gang of ruffians,” he sniffed.

I gave another mental sigh, held up my left hand palm out and removed the leather glove. The mark glowed greenly at our gatekeeper. Behind me, Ira sidled closer and breathed in deeply. “Inquisitor,” I said. “If you need further evidence, I believe you have a rift here that needs closing.” I pulled the glove back on.

At that one of the double doors at the end of the room opened. A young woman walked out, flanked by two Venatori and three desire demons in their default forms. She was attractive, with short, spikily tousled auburn hair, feral grey-blue eyes and a lithe, athletic build. She was wearing well-tailored trousers of deep green tucked into high black boots, an equally well-tailored shirt with black and green abstract patterns and a sleeveless leather vest. There were two daggers sheathed at her waist. “That’ll be all Stefan. I’ll speak with the Inquisitor and his party,” she said.

“As you say,” Stefan said and slid away to park himself behind the polished wooden desk situated along the right hand wall near the door.

She led us through the door. I’d been expecting some sort of posh office after that anteroom, but the doors led to what looked like some sort of warehouse-cum-staging area. An area to our right had been walled off to make an office of sorts, but it was much more utilitarian than I’d imagined. 

“There’s no way we’re going to fit all of you in the office, so I hope you don’t mind something a little more informal. Needless to say, we weren’t expecting you,” she said.

“Informal’s fine,” I said. “Do you mind my asking who you are?”

We reached an area with a haphazard arrangement of chairs and stools around a couple of tables; she indicated we should sit. “I do, rather. I didn’t ask you to come here, after all. What are you doing here, Inquisition?”

“Kai.”

She blinked. “What?”

“My name is Kai. Inquisition is what I do. “

“You _do_ lead the Inquisition, yes?”

“Yes. And you are?” I looked at her expectantly. “It doesn’t hurt to be polite, you know.”

The look she gave me was pinched and suspicious, but as I continued to wait, giving her nothing but polite interest, she finally relented with a tight-lipped little smile. “All right, Kai, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ll play. My name is Fleur Devilliers and I own this fine establishment. How did you find out about us?”

“That’s neither here nor there,” I said. I was hardly going to tell her the truth. “The point is, you’ve got something dangerous going on in this fine establishment of yours.”

“Isn’t that my problem, Kai? The last I heard, the Inquisition is not an authority in Orlais.” She gave me a hard smile.

“Well, Fleur, normally you’d be correct, but when it involves rifts and Venatori, it becomes our business.”

She cocked her head to one side like a curious puppy. “Really? Is it the rift or the Venatori that bothers you most?”

“Both. They’re part and parcel of one another. And that’s not even going into the fact that you’re running a brothel staffed with desire demons.”

“They’re not hurting anything. Our clients are very happy and we make a lot of money,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. 

“I don’t know that that’s entirely true, but I’m not inclined to argue the point,” I said. “However. The rift and the Venatori I’m _not_ willing to let go.”

“Why, Kai? The rift is secured and stable. What are the Venatori doing that is so terrible besides helping me with my enterprise and profiting from it too?”

“Is that what they’ve told you they’re here for, Fleur? And you believe that?” I gave her an _are you really that stupid?_ look.

“They need money to finance their efforts to bring Tevinter back to its former glory,” she said with a small frown.

I noticed the Venatori behind her were starting to fidget. “I repeat, and you believe that?”

“What else would they be here for?” she said.

“You’re not bothered by the reason they gave you?” Dorian asked.

She laughed. “Why should I care? Not only will it never happen, but even if it did, it would be happening up in Tevinter, not here in Orlais.”

“Well, Fleur, there’s a lot more going on here than the Venatori have told you, and they are using this delightful venue of yours and, by extension, _you_ for plans that do not have your best interests at heart.”

She leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands loosely in front of her. “That’s quite a claim, Kai. Now, I may be young, but I did not just fall off the turnip cart. Do you have any proof you can give me?”

“I’d have to tell you a little story, Fleur.”

She smiled a delighted smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, I love stories. Go right ahead.”

So I gave her the encapsulated story of Corypheus, the rifts and where the Venatori fit into it, finishing with, “So you see, Fleur, at the very least they’re setting your club up as a possible back door for Corypheus if things don’t go their way. I’m sure you don’t need me to spell out what would happen to this place in that event.”

She scowled. “That’s a lot to swallow, Kai.”

“Then let me ask you something,” I countered. “How many Venatori are here?”

“About…a dozen, I’d say.”

“And what are the Venatori doing here?”

“I told you. They need-”

I cut her off. “No. What are they _doing_ here? They’re not just faffing about keeping an eye on the rift and counting their money, are they?”

“Well, no. We set up an area for them. They do magic things there. Like, experiments.” She was finally starting to look uncomfortable.

“What sort of experiments, Fleur? Why does it take a dozen of them here full time to do them?”

“I…do not know. It didn’t seem important,” she said. 

“Really? You thought a dozen Tevinter cultists doing magical experiments on your property wasn’t important?” I said skeptically.

“Perhaps they were doing a little mind magic to ensure she didn’t worry too much about that?” Dorian speculated, giving the two Venatori behind her a guileless smile.

She turned around to face them, saying fiercely, “Mind magic?  On me? He’d better not be correct. What have you been _doing_ here?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” the taller one on the left said. “As you said, it will only affect Tevinter.”

“Then you should not mind _telling_ me,” she snapped. As she got angrier her accent was thickening.

“Why are you listening to these Inquisition dogs?” the other Venatori demanded. “We have not steered you wrong, _ma Cherie_.”

“Tell me,” she repeated. 

“We do not have to stand for this treatment,” the taller one said. “Talk amongst yourselves. We want no part of this.” He stood as if to leave, the shorter one following suit.

Bull and Blackwall stood as well.  “You’re not going anywhere. Sit,” Bull rumbled.

They looked around, assessing their situation, and sat. “It doesn’t matter anyway,” the shorter one said.

“Is that supposed to be cryptic?” I said.

The taller one snorted but said nothing.

“If I let you have your way, what would you do here?” Fleur asked.

“Get that rift unbound and close it, and remove all the Venatori from Val Chevin,” I said.

“What about my demons?” she gave me a penetrating look.

“Well…”

“Madame Devilliers?” Stefan’s voice came shortly before Stefan hove into view. “I apologize for disturbing you, but we have a situation.”


	16. Break On Through

“What sort of situation and where?” she said.

“In the dream room. Something is…happening.” His eyes raked over us suspiciously. “It’s not good.”

“Stefan, just tell us, would you?” she snapped.

“All the Venatori are in there and they’re- well, I don’t know exactly what they’re doing, but the rift is unlocked.”

“Oh, fuck me,” I swore. “Fleur, I’m afraid we’re done talking. This is what I was trying to warn you about.”

Everyone who hadn’t already been standing was now. Fleur wheeled on the two Venatori. “What the _void_ are you bastards doing?” she yelled.

The shorter one smirked. “What we’ve been planning for weeks. We had to step things up when the Inquisition hounds showed up, but no matter. The Elder One will prevail.”

He didn’t look so smug a moment later when she plunged a dagger through his throat. His partner began to cast something — a healing or combat spell were my guesses — but Dorian and I shut him down, me with a binding spell to stop him moving, and Dorian with a terror spell that immediately preoccupied him.

“Right. We’ve got to get back to the rift room _now_ ,” I said. Yes, I know that was obvious, but it’s one of those things you do when you’re running things, just to make sure everyone in your squad is thinking the same way.

“I’m coming with you,” Fleur announced.

“You should stay here and keep an eye on this idiot,” I gestured at the Venatori. The desire demons seemed to be having a grand time trussing him up.

“Fuck that, Kai. This is my _business_ we’re talking about. I can hold my own.”

I looked down at the dead Venatori and had to admit she probably could. “All right, but don’t expect us to babysit you,” I said. I waved my hand in the direction of the Venatori. “Bring him along, would you? We might need him for something.” We went through the anteroom and down the corridor to the junction.

I glanced back at Ira. “You know, you could sit this out. We don’t know what’s going on out there.”

He shook his head. “You don’t really want that. And neither do I.”

Dorian grinned at me. “And your track record for strangest recruitments remains consistent. Who else would take on a desire demon and an angry entrepreneur as their newest members?”

I smirked back. “Well, she did just kill a Venatori. But I’d say these two are temporary.”

We raced down the corridor to the side with the entrance to the club.  I cast a small, coloured flashbang ahead of us to let Varric and Cass know we were coming through.

They were waiting for us just outside the doorway. As we piled into the room we could hear shouts and other noises coming from the rift room. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“You got me, Inquisitor,” Varric said. “A few minutes ago all that noise started. We tried to have a look, but the door’s sealed shut. As in, not locked, but you can’t get it to budge.”

“Shite.” I turned to Dorian. “Warded, you think?”

“Most likely,” he agreed. “And by now there’s a good chance those wards are fuelled with blood magic.”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t worry about nicely unsealing it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Amatus, are you suggesting an act of wanton destruction?”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” I said.

“Just checking. I happen to agree.”

I turned to my newly-expanded crew. “You’ll want to hang back a bit. We’re going to blow the door and as much of the wall as it takes to get through.”

“The wall too?” Fleur said with dismay.

“What about people on the other side of the wall?” Cassandra wanted to know.

“Considering the noise we’re hearing, I don’t think that’s going to contribute much to the over-all body count,” I said.  
  
“Can’t your ox man chop through the door?” Fleur persisted.

“No, The Iron Bull can’t. It’s been warded and magically strengthened to keep everyone out until they’re finished,” I said. “So unless you have another entrance the Venatori don’t know about, it’s the wall that’s the weak point.”

“But it’s brick.”

“Old brick. We’ll try to destroy as small a section as we can, but we need to get in there _now_. We can try weakening it magically and having Bull or one of our other enforcers break through it manually, but that’s all I can promise.”

“Ugh. _Fine,_ ” Fleur snapped. “Just do as little damage as possible, _s’il vous_ _plait._ ”

Dorian and I conferred on the best spot to attack, deciding on a combination of extreme heat then extreme cold followed by a telekinetic punch. If it didn’t break through, it should weaken the wall enough for the others to finish the job. 

We cast and the brickwork cracked, much of the mortar crumbling, and while many of the bricks shifted, we didn’t manage to break through. 

“Guess you don’t have a maul or a sledgehammer around here, do you?” Bull asked Fleur.

“I have no idea,” she said irritably.  “I don’t trouble myself with construction.”

He shrugged. “Well, it would’ve made this easier, but pommels it is. You know this might draw unwanted attention to us.”

“We’ll have to take that chance,” I said. There was a throbbing, grating noise coming from the rift room that made me think that might not be a problem.

Bull, Cassandra and Blackwall attacked the wall and broke through with a shower of bricks and mortar dust in a matter of minutes, pushing through the rubble to enter the big room. As we moved to follow them, all three of them stopped. Blackwall muttered, “Andraste’s tits,” as Cass said, “By the Maker.” 


	17. Abattoir Blues

Bull swore comprehensively in Qunlat and said, “Boss, you and Dor want to get up here and tell us what we’re looking at?”

We walked a few paces past the opening to join them in trying to take in the spectacle before us. Whether you called it rift room or dream room before, it was now an abattoir. 

The entire room was lit with the virulent, pulsating green of the rift, which was wide open. Encircling it were the ten remaining Venatori. It appeared six of them were mages, and whatever they were casting, it was taking every bit of concentration they had. The remaining four had been busy — as we watched, two of them held a man between them while a third slit his throat. As blood spilled everywhere, the mages took that power and poured it into their spells. There were already several bodies scattered about them. 

The remaining Venatori dragged a desire demon before the other three. The two whose entire repertoire of ability seemed to be holding people in place took the demon. The designated butcher pulled two small daggers that looked like ice picks out of a pouch on her belt and plunged them deep into either side of the demon’s throat. The demon shrieked, spasming in agony. It thrashed in its handlers’ grasp as something that looked like purplish blood but wasn’t ran from gaps in the carved handles of the picks. The butcher collected the stuff in an anomalously mundane beer mug. When the mug was full and the demon hung limp between its captors, they tossed it to the side like trash. Within less than a minute it had discorporated completely. The mug was handed off to the closest mage, who took a drink and passed it on to the next.

“They’re not using the desire demons’ blood,” Dorian said quietly, “they’re using their actual life energy, and since that’s all they really are…”

“You’re saying if the demons have souls or _are_ souls,” I trailed off.

Dorian nodded. “Souls, spirits — whatever you choose to call them, these Venatori found a way to consume their very essence. Now imagine if they had something on the level of a pride demon to consume.”

“Are your death sprits safe?” It seemed a funny question, I know, but many of the spirits he deals with as a Necromancer he’s known since he was young.

“I think so. They’re beneath their notice. These bastards want power.”

The remaining patrons and workers alike were mostly huddled by the barrier at the end of the room. At least one Venatori must have been strengthening the thing, because they’d made it impenetrable to everyone, not just the demons. There was hoarse shouting and some sobbing coming from the crowd as they tried to breach the barrier or tend to wounds they’d received (though it sounded like even with everything going on, a few of them were just arguing with each other).

There were _things_ coming out of the rift. I’m not even sure how to describe them. They were about the size of a large dog, and resembled otters, if otters had been designed by a committee that really hated otters. The things had the same four short legs and powerful-looking tail, and the same shape of head, but they certainly weren’t cute. Rather than fur they had loose, greasy black skin mottled with bumpy, wartlike nodules, wide, lipless mouths with too many teeth and two tentacle-like appendages erupting from their shoulders.  They were prowling about the room, making weird, flutelike whistles. They had no eyes.

“I’ve never seen anything like those in my life,” I said. “Dorian? Is this some bizarre Tevinter pocket of the Fade they’re accessing? Please tell me it is.”

He shook his head. “Amatus, this is as new to me as it is to you. _Fasta vass,_ what do those idiots think they’re doing?”

One of the nightmare otters found a woman who’d been cowering under a table. I don’t know what it ‘saw’, but it gave a wild, flutelike trill. All the things nearby swarmed, moving with near-boneless fluidity over and around her.

Biting.

And devouring.

Her screams were terrible.

The problem was, we couldn’t attempt to save her. There was something happening in the rift that made the horrible flute-otters pale in comparison.

“Get that fucking Venatori bastard over here,” I said over my shoulder, not caring who brought him to me.

Sera and Ira marched him up to us while Varric kept Bianca trained on him.

“Well? What the _fuck_ are you people doing here?” I demanded.

He smirked. “If you have a half hour or so I could tell you, but oh, look! You don’t!”

Dorian quietly cast a spell. The purple glow that manifested with his necromancy swirled around him for a brief moment then moved over to the Venatori. The man blanched at whatever nightmare sensations the spell was giving him. “Give us the condensed version,” he said coldly.

The Venatori was breathing heavily, beads of sweat on his forehead. “What is that? Fucking Necromancy? You’re Tevinter, aren’t you? Why are you working with these southern mongrels?”

“To stop scum like you that give the Imperium a worse reputation than it already has,” Dorian said. He was calm, but there was real anger behind his words. “Now do as you were told.”

Cassandra moved in closer to our prisoner as Sera fired an arrow at one of the flute-otters. It flew true, of course, going straight through the thing’s head. It gave a high-pitched shriek and dissolved into a black, viscous smear of liquid. She whooped and began firing in earnest.

I raised my voice so everyone could hear. “Everyone — stay close and watch that bloody rift. Sera, Varric, the wildlife is a given, but take out the damned Venatori if you can. They’re probably behind barriers, but if they’re not, don’t worry about the flute-otters.” I turned my attention back to the Venatori. “Talk, or we’ll shatter all your limbs and leave you to those things.”

He sneered but started talking. They’re all so damned pleased with themselves I wasn’t surprised it took so little pressure. “You think you know all the Fade? There are deep sections of the Fade that no one’s accessed for millennia. With the knowledge the Elder One has shared, we’ve been exploring those deep places. We found something, but reaching those places is difficult and takes much power. The kind of power an open rift provides.”

As I feared, both Sera and Varric’s arrows bounced harmlessly off the magical barrier the Venatori had erected. Undaunted, they turned their attention back to destroying the flute-otters.

“We heard of this place and investigated. As the rift was indoors, it was everything we needed. We set that greedy little idiot of an Orlesian up with her business, and in return she let us do our work.”

“What work? Bringing these things through? How is that supposed to help Corypheus?”

“By giving him a helpmate worthy of his power.”

“Really? Better than the dragon?” I said. 

“The dragon accompanies him. This will be his messenger.”

“Sorry to tell you, I really can’t see anyone opening the door to those,” Dorian said.

“Those are not what we sought. They are its harbingers; mere dumb animals.”

“So what is it? Its pets don’t look like anything I’ve ever seen in the Fade,” I added.

“I told you. There are dark corners and pockets connected to the Fade. It’s from one of those and it’s far more terrible than its harbingers.”

“You don’t even know what it is, do you?” Dorian said with a humourless laugh.

“Proof positive how truly stupid people can be in the name of a cause,” I said. “We’ve heard enough for the moment. We’ve got to go destroy your plans and the rift. Don’t go anywhere.” I cast a binding spell on him, Dorian cast sleep, and Ira and Cass hauled him off to one side, depositing him none too gently on the floor.

If it seems like we’d been taking unnecessary time, remember that it takes much longer to tell all that than it did for it to happen. While the Venatori were temporarily safe behind their layered barriers, Sera and Varric had managed to destroy most of the flute-otters, clearing the way for everyone to deal with the bigger threat forming. 

I charged Varric, Ira and Fleur with trying to get as many survivors as possible out through the hole we’d blasted in the wall. Dorian and I cast our own barriers and the rest of us advanced toward the rift and its ring of Venatori.

Some of them were chanting, others seemed to prefer working in silence, but either way their casting was reaching a crescendo. The rift _pulsed,_ growing as it did, and we heard that throbbing grating noise again. There was movement on the other side of the tear in reality.

Something was coming through, and maker help us, it was fucking _big_.


	18. Ad Mortem Inmicus

_Moist, leathery skin of purest black._

_Limbs ending in clawed hands or maybe tentacles; maybe both._

_Something undulating under its skin like sentient tumours as it pressed its bulk through the rift in an obscene parody of birth._

_A smell accompanied its arrival. It was sweet, but acrid, like dead flowers soaked in ammonia but uglier._

_A head that looked unfinished. It was faceless, though like the flute-otters it had a lipless mouth. The teeth that filled it were obsidian needles._

Along with those impressions as we were approaching, I realised the mark on my hand was pulsing in time with the pulse of the rift. It hurt, each beat feeling like it was pulling and twisting at my entire forearm from the inside. I tried to ignore the pain.

The thing emerged fully from the rift, sluglike and amorphous at first, but it was rapidly forming powerful-looking limbs. The Venatori gave a shout of triumph.

Their creature gave a ululating warble that descended into a guttural exhalation, reached out with one great hand and tore a Venatori’s head off by the simple expedient of grasping and twisting it. It held the head above its maw, letting the blood run down its throat, then tossed the head away like garbage.

The Venatori had all stopped casting when their god showed its appreciation for all their hard work. Half a minute later the barrier dropped. That was the moment we’d been waiting for.

Our plan was of necessity loose because we didn’t know the first thing about the strengths and weaknesses of the individual Venatori, let alone the thing they’d called through, and could be summed up quite simply: no matter what, kill all the Venatori then sort everything else out after.

Dorian, Sera and I hung back, as we’re all more efficient at a distance, while Bull, Cassandra and Blackwall advanced cautiously on the group. 

Their creature now looked fully – well, not human, but humanoid, with the right number of limbs in the right places. It reached out with surprising suddenness and grabbed another Venatori, pulling her close before ripping out her throat. Again it swallowed the blood greedily then tossed the body aside.

A Venatori who was either very knowledgeable or very full of himself stepped in front of the thing and, chanting loudly, cast an odd-looking binding spell. Pulling out an ancient-looking book (he’d luckily remembered to bookmark), he advanced on it, still chanting in a very commanding tone.

“What do you figure,” I muttered to Dorian, “ _I am your master, you must heed my words_?”

“Hm. This thing looks ancient enough, I’m thinking more _in the name of the great Elder Gods you must obey me_.” He smirked.

“What the _fuck_ are you lot laughing about?” Sera demanded in a fierce whisper. “Or did you not notice there’re people _dying_ here?”

“We’re very aware of that, Sera,” I said absently. “I’m also expecting this idiot to get his head torn off, which does give us one less Venatori to contend with.”

“And the way they’re going about this is just so…Grand Guignol,” Dorian said. “Even _I_ think it’s over the top. So we laugh because it’s better than screaming while we wait for the perfect moment to destroy all of them.”

She continued to stare at us for a moment, muttered, “Daft bloody mages,” and spun around in time to plant an arrow in a marauding flute-otter. It warbled and dissolved.

By the rift, the mage with the book looked to be having a battle of wills with the thing they’d called up. He was sweating heavily, barking words of power (I assume) out of his tome. The remaining mages were channeling power to him, but it seemed it was getting increasingly difficult for them. One of them broke concentration long enough to turn and bark orders at their non-mage brethren.

The murder squad realized they’d run out of victims and the butcher said something to the procurer, who jogged several paces away from the others before he realized he was seeing nothing but heavily armed and armoured people in front of him. He started to shout something and Cassandra ran him through (as always, requesting the maker take him).

The other three clumped together in a tight circle, shooting glances at us and arguing with each other. “Just stay that way,” Dorian murmured and cast a spell.

The mages had managed to cast quite a good barrier around their monster — I’m sure seeing two of your number get torn to pieces is a powerful motivator — but I didn’t think it was going to hold much longer. They were all looking moments away from dropping and we’d cut off their supply of blood and spirits.

For a few moments everything was almost still. The battle of wills going on was just that — no fireworks. My people were waiting for the moment we could do the most damage with the least amount of danger to ourselves. The murder squad was still arguing amongst themselves. The only real movement was the steady stream of refugees Varric, Ira and Fleur were hurrying out the breach in the wall.

Then the butcher exploded.

Pieces of her flew violently in every direction, sending her friends stumbling backwards, cursing and trying to look about wildly while wiping bits of butcher off their faces. Some flew the other way, striking the mages. Two of the three who were closest stayed intent on holding the monster behind their barriers, but the third (who’d gotten smacked in the side of the face with a bloody gobbet of flesh the size of a baby’s head that also had a bone sticking out of it) lost concentration completely, whipping around to see what had hit him.

The exploding butcher was Dorian’s doing, of course. He’d cast a walking bomb spell the moment the murder squad clumped together and it had worked beautifully.

Things happened very quickly after that. When that mage had dropped his portion of the casting, it had weakened a section of the barrier. I take it the creature could sense magic, because it let out another ululating howl that set my teeth on edge and surged forward.

Some of the other Venatori panicked and also dropped their parts of the barrier. One of them took off running for the back wall, two more started casting combat spells at the thing (that appeared to have no effect whatsoever), and one actually had the presence of mind to cast a barrier around himself and their fearless leader.

 _That_ noble personage had dropped his book and was gaping gobsmacked as the thing pushed through the last of the barrier and apparently _spoke_ to him. I couldn’t make out what it said (or even how it was talking at all — its mouth certainly hadn’t been designed with speech-making in mind), but the mage had staggered back and may have fallen if his compatriot hadn’t caught him. Now he was nodding like someone had mounted his head on a spring.

Before the thing could get itself organized enough to launch an attack on anything, Bull gave me the hand signal that meant _now?_. I signaled back, _Do it_. 

As I lay barrier spells on Bull, Blackwall and Cass, they advanced, Bull with a blood-curdling roar. His greataxe took out a Venatori with one blow.

At the same time, Dorian took care of barrier spells for us and we started the familiar routine of combat casting. Sera sent an exploding arrow into one of the non-magical enforcers and it blew half his head off. Dorian cast a high-powered freezing spell at the creature’s new pet mage that I followed with an equally heavy force spell and we got the satisfaction of seeing him literally shatter where he stood.

I didn’t see every bit of the action as I was concentrating on my part in it, but in just a few minutes all the Venatori were dead (except, I assumed, the one that ran away and the one we had trussed up at the back of the room).

That just left the thing they’d called up.

Easy-peasy, right?


	19. The Unknown Colour

While we’d been knocking ourselves out removing the Venatori from the equation, Big, Bad and Ugly had been greedily sucking up all the blood and maker only knows what else that our efforts had provided. Now, in the lull happening because we’d run out of smaller foes to kill, it raised its head and…well, I want to say it looked at us, but I’m not sure how it managed that without eyes. Whatever it was using to sense us was working just fine, put it that way.

I’d expected it would become some great, hulking thing like an ogre or a giant, but meaner. Apparently our monster had a sense for aesthetics, because from the neck down it had turned itself into an impressively attractive specimen of a man. A giant-sized man with pure black, leathery skin that shone wetly in the light from the rift; a man who was faceless except for that tooth-filled maw, which it had fashioned into a human-looking mouth during all the excitement. I suppose that’s what it was using all the Venatori blood for. It took a few graceful steps away from the rift.

“Damn, now that’s just playing dirty,” I muttered.

Dorian made a noise of agreement.

Sera snickered. “For you lot, maybe. Me, I couldn’t give a nug’s arse.”

“Don’t worry, we’re still going to kill it,” I assured her. “It’s just…damn.”

“It’s  like some  tacky story about a beautiful, nearly-finished sculpture come to life, but the sculptor put all his negative feelings into it so it turned out evil,” Dorian said. He flashed a smile at both of us. “I don’t _just_ read magical tomes, you know. Sometimes I look at the trash fiction Kai leaves lying around.”

“No one’s making you pick it up,” I said loftily. “It helps me relax after Inquisiting all day.”

We were watching the creature closely this whole time. It moved weirdly; fluidly; like it only had a passing acquaintance with bones and what they’re used for. It seemed to be heading towards the back of the room.

“Kai,” Dorian said, “Look at it in the magical spectrum.”

I looked. What looked like moisture in the physical world became a sheen of greasy colours sliding over its “skin”. There was one colour I didn’t recognize and even now have no idea how to describe. I wondered if it was poisonous. “How do you suppose we fight this thing?” I said.

“Shoot it until it loses that shape?” Sera suggested.

“We need to see if it has any magical resistances,” Dorian said.

The others joined us. The thing was walking like it had a mission, I just wasn’t sure what the mission was.

“Whadda you think, Boss?” Bull said, “Shoot it? Magic it? Run in and hack at it?”

“I…don’t know,” I admitted. “It acted like the spells the Venatori were throwing at it didn’t so much as tickle it, and I get the feeling any hole you hack in it is just going to fill in with whatever it’s made of and piss it off.”

“So you’re saying it’s probably unkillable, or the next thing to it.”

“It doesn’t seem to care about us at all. We might be creating a problem that doesn’t exist if we attack it prematurely.”

“We cannot let it out those doors!” Cassandra said with alarm.

“I know that. Just…wait a moment, would you?”

She looked like she wanted to clock me over the head and go rushing in to attack, but with an annoyed grunt she did as I asked.

Varric, Ira and Fleur crowded in behind us. “People’re out,” Varric said. “What are we doing?”

“Apparently nothing,” Fleur said acerbically.

At the back of the room, the creature walked by the opening to the outside world without a glance. It bent over with that same weirdly fluid grace and picked up the Venatori we’d left bound. Dorian’s sleep spell had worn off, so the man saw what was picking him up and made a terrified squeal.

The creature slung the Venatori over one shoulder and turned back towards the rift.

“So are we just _standing_ here, then?” Sera asked.

“You want to try punching it?” Ira said. He’d definitely been picking up my sense of humour.

“This is not right,” Cassandra groused.

“It hasn’t done anything to us,” I pointed out.

The creature had been crossing back to the rift, but stopped. Its faceless head turned toward us.

“Oh, look, it’s noticed us!” Dorian said with ersatz cheer.

Like it or not, I was considered the leader of the group, so I stepped forward a pace. At least my wardrobe matched its skin. “We have no fight with you,” I said, trying to project that sentiment. I doubted everyone spoke the Thedosian common tongue wherever the Venatori pulled it from. I shifted my attention to the magical spectrum in hopes I could get some indication what it was thinking.

That colour I’d never seen before pulsed across its non-face and suddenly it was like someone was punching my mind. A barrage of images, sounds and alien concepts hit me all at once. I shouted and went down to my knees, unable to keep my balance under the mental onslaught. Dorian was right there next to me before I’d even fully focused. I could hear weapons unsheathing and raised one hand. “ _Wait_.”

“Amatus? What just happened? Are you all right?” Dorian asked. I nodded and accepted his help to stand.

“I’m okay. Everyone, please do not attack it.” I rubbed my temples and tried to ignore the way my left hand and forearm were throbbing even though the Venatori had stopped casting. I looked up, concentrating on Dorian’s eyes. “I think it just said ‘hello’.”

“If that’s hello I’d hate to see its formal introduction,” he quipped. He still looked concerned.

“I felt it too,” Ira said from just behind me. “It’s not friendly, but it’s not unfriendly either. It’s angry, but not at us. Yet.”

Dorian and I both turned to gawk at him. “You understood all that?” I said.

Ira shrugged. “There’s a lot I didn’t. If it’s truly of the Fade it’s from a very scary alien section of it, but I got that much. Maybe I’m more attuned to it.”

“Could you help us talk to it?”

Ira chewed at his lower lip. “I can try.  Interpreting and projecting feelings is second nature to me. But I’m serious. The thing is so different from anything we know, it’s hard to find much to hang on to.”

I nodded. “Understood. But we need to try. I’d rather avoid a bloodbath.”

“A little late for that, don’t you think?” Blackwall deadpanned.

I shot him a quick smile. “Well, _more_ of a bloodbath. Dorian? Ira? Ready?”

We stepped forward a calm, careful pace again. The creature stood there watching us. The Venatori it had slung over its shoulder made the mistake of struggling and got a hard cuff on the back for his trouble. He went limp again.

I switched back over to the magical spectrum. That unknown colour – _the communication colour?_ – was undulating in slow circles around its head. Dorian put a hand on my back, channelling a steadying stream of — how to explain this — not his power, but more his _essence_ to me. It was the magical equivalent of him bracing me with his strength so I wouldn’t get knocked on my arse again.  Ira took my left hand in his and we began one of the weirder exercises in diplomacy I’ve ever had.

I’ll leave out the actual mechanism of it, since every bit went: I spoke, trying to boost the concepts behind the words as I did; Ira mumbled the words as I said them, doing whatever he did to make the meaning clearer; the creature took a few moments while it sorted out what we said then answered, its blasts of thought somewhat tempered by Ira’s filtering and Dorian’s quiet strength so I could both handle and decipher them more easily. That took time on our part, since filtering out the alien sensations and concepts was no walk in the park even for Ira. It didn’t lend itself to snappy comebacks and witty repartee, but it worked. 

It was up to me to start. “Greetings. We have no fight with you, nor do we wish to.”

“Nor I you. What is this place?”

A tricky question that I didn’t want to answer too specifically. We didn’t want the thing remembering anything good or overly bad about our world and deciding it wanted to come back. We had enough home-grown monsters to contend with. “I suspect this land is as alien to you as yours would be to us. We apologize on behalf of the ones who pulled you here.”

“I would have those that still live. It is my right as the injured party.” 

“We agree. They are an aberration and had no right to disturb you.”

“I wish to leave. Bring me the other.”

_Shit. I’d have to hope the escapee didn’t make it out the back door yet._ “I will dispatch my people to find the other.”

I sent Sera, Cass and The Iron Bull after the last Venatori. Sera and Cass were best at spotting and hunting people, Cass could shut them down magically, and Bull had the size and muscle to handle any human you’d care to pit against him. I really hoped they wouldn’t take long, because this conversation was both nerve-racking and exhausting.

Fortunately, the creature wasn’t one for small talk. It simply stood there, though when I switched to the magical spectrum for a moment, those colours were swirling and undulating under its skin and I could swear they were a bit brighter. Once its Venatori twitched. It hit him with what I now knew to be a thought; the Venatori gave a strangled groan and went limp again.

It took less than ten minutes for my crew to return with the escaped Venatori in tow. Sera told me later it had been easy because the other escapees had recognized what he was and captured him immediately. When she, Cass and Bull had arrived in the back warehouse, the people hadn’t been arguing about _if_ they were going to kill him, just _how._ They had been more than happy to hand him over to the monster he’d helped call up.

Bull marched the bound Venatori up to the creature and gave him a push. The huge Qunari looked small next to the creature, who grabbed the hapless Venatori around the waist and pulled him closer.

I said, “Here is the other. Do you need aid to return to your land?”

“I think not. The way is still open. I can feel my land beyond it. I will close that way. Your people will not find it again.”

“That is for the best. I will close the way to the land you passed through once you’ve closed yours.”

“It took many of these fools to open the ways. Am I to believe you alone can close them?”

“They did not open the way into this world; they only captured that which was already opened by accident. They forced their way into yours. That is what took so many of them. As you can close the way to your world, so I can close the way to mine.” _No need to let it know I was the only one that could do that._

“This is good. I have no wish to remain, nor to sense your kind again. I am leaving.”

“We thank you for your understanding.”

It didn’t say anything else (it could well be the halting, stilted conversation was just as exhausting to it), just turned and strode to the rift. It paused for one moment to firm its grip on its two Venatori and stepped through, the rift shifting to accommodate its bulk.

The three of us went close enough to the rift’s opening to see the other side. A black shape was striding sinuously across the Fade’s cloudy green landscape toward a jagged black rip that seemed to be in the air itself. It stepped through and disappeared as it blended into the black. We heard that awful, ululating howl one last time and the rip disappeared with a thunderous clap of displaced air. We backed away from the rift and joined the others.


	20. Ain't We Got Fun?

“Well, that went better than I expected,” Varric said.

“There is still the matter of the desire demons,” Cassandra said. “The remainder of them are in the back. We need to return them to the Fade before the Inquisitor closes the rift.”

“Oh no you’re not!” Fleur yelped. “Those people are my livelihood.”

“They are not people,” Cass snapped.

I walked over to the bar, saying, “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could use a drink.”

Everyone else agreed, so while Cass and Fleur went back and forth, we acquired our drinks of choice. I sat at one of the round tables near the bar, Dorian and Ira still flanking me. Sera took the last seat, turning it around backwards so she could prop her crossed arms on the back.

“How long are you going to let them argue?” Ira asked.

“Until this headache calms down,” I said. “That was…taxing.”

“Are you really going to send them back?” 

I swallowed beer and sighed. “You don’t think some of them might _want_ to go back?”

Ira’s eyebrows shot up. “Want? I- maybe. I hadn’t thought of that. I suppose some might.”

“Well, it would certainly make my life easier.”

“Perhaps if you painted them a picture of it as a relaxing return home after a stressful journey?” Dorian suggested.

“Ugh. I’m not up to word pictures right now, love. If you want to give it a go, go right ahead.”

“I was hoping my clever suggestion would be enough. Honestly, I’d be hard pressed to write doggerel right now.”

“What’s that? Ferelden poetry?” Sera asked with a grin.

That sent us into a round of slightly punchy jokes about Ferelden. It felt like I’d been sitting at that table a very long time, but my beer was only half gone and Cass and Fleur were still hollering at each other. I hoped the talk with the creature hadn’t done something strange to my mind.

“I’ll take the geas,” Ira suddenly said.

“Huh?” I’m afraid I just looked at him blankly, then took advantage of my own confusion to drink more beer.

“The geas. Even if I’m stuck in this form or- or have to eat and things. I don’t care. I’m not going back,” he said with a mulish look at me and Dorian.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“We really don’t know how it will affect you in the long run,” Dorian added.

“I don’t care,” Ira reiterated.

“You know…when you’re not around us you might not think or feel quite the same,” I said.

Ira wrinkled his nose at me. “How do you figure?”

“Well, this all started for you because you’d targeted me as a client. You’ve been trying to emulate what I desire. Obviously what I desire is Dorian-

(Dorian inclined his head in gracious acknowledgement.)

-and by extension, I desire smart, witty, good-looking men. That’s what you’ve become. But I don’t know how that works for you. Will you be able to hold onto Ira when you’re no longer around us?”

The look on Ira’s face suggested he hadn’t thought of that. “Do you want another drink? I’ll get us another drink.”

He went to the bar and busied himself doing just that. Sera squinted at him. “Does this mean he's gonna turn into whatever people around him want? ‘Cause a lot of people are real wankers, you know.”

“That’s what we’re worried about,” I said.

“Then you shouldn’t let him stay.”

“Because he _might_ be a problem? That’s not a good enough reason.”

“It’s good enough for me,” she said, sticking her lower lip out.

“There might be a way to lock in his personality more firmly,” Dorian said, eyes bright with the challenge of it.

“There should be. I’m not going to send him back on a maybe. Not after all the help he’s been to us. If it weren’t for Ira I don’t know if we’d have been able to talk to that thing even.” I gave Sera a glare back.

“Oh, come on, Kai. We know what this is really about,” she said as Ira returned with our drinks.

“ _We_ do, do we?”

“It isn’t the same as you being locked in the Circle.”

I frowned at her. “No. It isn’t. So fuck off talking about it.”

Dorian put his hand over mind and gave it a slight squeeze. Whether he was being supportive or warning me not to go off the deep end I’m not sure – probably both – but it worked to get me to calm down. I flashed a small smile to him and said to Ira, “Any thoughts about what we were talking about?”

“Yes. I’m scared you might be right. I’ve never tried to keep a personality before. Never saw the need for it. But…I _like_ being Ira. Don’t you and Dorian have any spells that might help?”

“If you’re dead set, maybe Solas could help,” Sera said. “He’s so mad for the Fade, maybe he knows something that’d be more than _blardy-blardy-blar_ for once.”

“If he takes the geas now and stays with us for the time being, we could work on it,” Dorian suggested.

I grinned. “If anyone can figure out a spell for it, it’s us. I’d rather not have to ask Solas’s advice if I can help it.” I took a drink, decided it was too warm and goosed it with a small cold spell. “So Ira, do you think you could stand being around us for a while?”

“Considering that’s how I get to stay Ira, yes,” he said. “Besides, you two aren’t so bad. And you still taste good.”

“Do you really want to remind me of that?” I asked.

“I don’t _mean_ anything by it. Seriously. I’m grateful I met you and I want to stay in this world and I _want_ to stay me. Whatever it takes for that to happen, I’ll do.”

“Then we’ll give you the geas before I close the rift.”

Sera rolled her eyes. “I knew you wouldn’t send him back.”

Further conversation was pre-empted as the argument finally made its way to our table. Cass was still insisting all the desire demons be tossed bodily through the rift whether they wanted to go back or not, and Fleur was just as emphatic that she be allowed to keep them working at her club.

“Inquisitor, it is your responsibility,” Cassandra said.

“Kai, I’ve already been used by the damned Venatori. Are you really going to remove my livelihood too? My demons have never harmed anyone,” Fleur countered.

Just when my headache was starting to abate.

“Would the two of you please stop shouting for a moment?” I asked. “You’re probably neither going to like my answer.”

They glared at each other then looked expectantly at me.

“Let them choose. Those that wish to return to the Fade can go. Those that wish to stay have to take on the same geas as Ira. It essentially prevents them from possessing, using or consuming anyone. We don’t know the long-term effects of it, but it would keep people safe. Well, safer.”

“That is-” Cass began.

“My solution,” I finished. “It’s not perfect, but I’m too tired to come up with perfect. You don’t like it, I’ll just close the fucking rift and we’ll leave.”

They accepted my solution. In the end, a surprising number of the surviving desire demons chose to return to the Fade. I think what they saw the Venatori do to their fellow demons rattled many of them. Some said our world hadn’t been quite as enjoyable as they thought it would be, others weren’t willing to chance the geas and a few said they actually missed the nice, diffuse life they had in the Fade.

Fleur was left with four demons who agreed to take the geas and stay with her as treasured employees, though not without some concessions from her. Once Dorian and I had administered the geas, we left them to their negotiations. We oversaw the return of the other demons to the Fade, then before anything else could discover it, I finally closed the rift for good.

We trooped out to the bar area on the other side of what had been the barrier because it had much better lighting and dropped into chairs circling one of the bigger tables. At that moment I felt like I could be perfectly comfortable falling asleep right there. 

Any patrons who could leave had done so long ago; the only locals left were a few employees and a heavyset man snoring away at a table in the far corner. They said he’d slept through the whole thing.

“So are we _done_?” Sera moaned. “It feels like we’ve been in this bloody pile for _ever_.”

“We’ve still gotta get back to the inn,” Bull said around a prodigious yawn.

As the others chatted tiredly, Dorian and I cast the geas on Ira.

“I don’t feel any different,” he said once we’d finished.

“You’ll only notice it if you try to go against it,” I reminded him.

“So do I get to come with you?”

“Before we get back to anywhere half civilized, we’ve got to go into the Emerald Graves,” I warned him. “There are rifts there I have to close.”

“I don’t even know what the Emerald Graves are,” Ira said with a shrug.

“Neither do we, but I’m sure they’re full of hostile wildlife and even more hostile people,” Dorian said.

“You can help out in the camps they set up. Once we’re done there we can go back to Skyhold and look into your situation properly.”

Fleur marched into the room to announce there was a coach outside waiting to take us back to our inn. I’m sure she just wanted to get rid of the lot of us, but I felt grateful just the same. I needed to sleep for a week, not trudge back to the inn.

False dawn was once again lighting the sky when we emerged from that nameless club in Val Chevin. We piled into the coach and I, at least, dozed most of the way back. 

As everyone prepared to go to their rooms and get what sleep we could before having to set out for the Emerald Graves, Varric cleared his throat and said, “Inquisitor?”

I was too tired to complain about his always calling me that. “Yeah?” I draped an arm across Dorian’s shoulders. He yawned and leaned into me.

“Even though it might cut down on my literary fodder, I have one request for the rest of this trip.”

The others had all stopped to listen as I nodded _go ahead._

“The next time someone suggests a pub crawl in whatever town we’re in next, for Andraste’s sake, would you shut them up and just drink at the inn?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, feedback is welcome.


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